


Ends of the Earth

by diamondforever



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondforever/pseuds/diamondforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Sunnydale's destruction, the gang makes their way to Los Angeles. Willow is trying to look forward, but a tortured Tara keeps appearing in her dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"…When the time comes that a soulful vampire shall fight alongside the Slayers, then shall the black witch call the white witch from the fields of eternal bliss to bring about the closing of the circle of good and evil. Many shall fall to make way for the white witch, and although she does not will it, the two must fight, or so perish, with the earth beside them…"

 

Chapter One

 

They'd won. As Willow hung onto Xander, it went through her head. They'd won, actually won, as in kicked the First's army to the next hell dimension. They'd won, as in saved the world from yet another near apocalypse, with no one except for the now-evacuated residents of the former Sunnydale knowing any better. Things were looking up.

And no more Sunnydale. Yes, no more home, but hey, no more Hellmouth, which was totally fine by Willow. Yes-sir-ee, no more Sunnydale Hellmouth was definitely a good thing. Yep, things were looking up.

"So, Buffy," she heard Dawn ask for the second time, "where to?"

And for the second time, Buffy just smiled. A sad smile, but hey, who wouldn't be sad if their home for the last six years had been reduced to ground zero? Even though she had been fighting to keep the town safe since the day she had arrived in Sunnydale, Buffy had been able to find true happiness, at least at one point, on the Hellmouth.

Willow knew she would follow Buffy to the ends of the earth. The Slayer had saved her many times over the years, and Willow wanted to repay that. She was after all, according to Buffy, the most powerful witch to walk the earth. That had to leave some space for "protect your friends from whatever evil throws their way." And Willow would do just that. Inseparable to the ends of the earth, they would be.

How she wished Tara could be here now. She had used to think that they too would be inseparable. Loving each other in old age, always together. Dying side by side, together in the afterlife, inseparable through death. That belief had been cruelly torn apart by Warren. The anger she felt towards him was still fresh, a wound barely healed. He had caused her so much pain, and in return, his life had been torn from him…literally.

Sometimes, Willow still wanted to show that anger and pain. Maybe that was why she'd never really liked Andrew. He had been an accomplice in Warren's plans, naïve and unaware, but nevertheless part of the chain of events leading to her Tara's death. Just as guilty, and just as deserving of death.

But she wouldn't do that. That was the past now, and it was time to leave that behind. No more embracing of the dark arts, right, Willster? She chuckled at her Xander-esque impression. But he was right. No more dark arts. That had driven Tara away, and had taken away any chance for her to be with Tara in the afterlife. The dark arts had separated them, and Willow would always remember that.

Willow smiled. She could picture her love looking down at her from heaven, wishing her well. You'll always find me, and I'll always find you, she had said, stroking her face. It had been the night after Buffy had died, and Tara had vowed that they would never be truly apart, that not even death could completely separate them. Willow's belief that this was true, and that Tara was watching over her, was what kept her going now. Tara wanted her to be happy.

How Willow wished she could be happy. But that could never happen without Tara in physical form here beside her. Kennedy would give her brief moments of pleasure and release, but Willow had always been in a blissful heaven whenever Tara was around her. Kennedy would hold her in her arms at night, but Willow would dream of Tara and the love they had shared. Kennedy would move inside her, but everything would feel and smell like Tara. Everything was Tara.

She would move on though. How could she live if she continued to pine over a love that she could never have again? Willow wouldn't waste away. She would try to live as Tara wished for her to do so, loving to the fullest, using her magicks for a good cause. Goddess, no matter how hard it was, she would continue to live with the magical spark and vitality that had drawn Tara to her.

As the group of survivors walked back towards the tattered yellow school bus, Willow took Kennedy by the hand. This'll work, she thought, her resolve face making its way to the surface, this is gonna work.

 

Willow woke with an urge to weep, a normal occurrence in the past months. As usual, her love had been in her dreams. Her dreams weren't happy. They were retellings of her last day with Tara. Sometimes, it included the happy times, the love-making, but it also told the inevitable death that occurred at the end of each dream turned nightmare.

All was silent on the school bus, traveling along the road with a steady bump-bump. Kennedy's arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, as if to protect her from harm. There was no way that she could know that Willow needed no protection from physical hurt. There was comfort in the embrace, and there was warmth, but there was no unbridled love. Willow tried to snuggle closer, but found that the bus seat wouldn't allow it.

So unable to go back to sleep, she moved Kennedy's arm, and bump-bumped with the bus up to the driver's seat, where Xander sat steering the bus along the road to Los Angeles. It was obvious that he was near exhaustion, as his head bobbed up and down with the terrain.

"Need a break?" Xander jumped slightly, the change from the sleepy silence of the road startling him.

"Willow!" His demeanor brightened. "Scared the heebie-jeebies out of me there…" He smiled, his one eye gazing into hers. Damn that cleric.

"Eyes on the road, sailor." Willow tried to sound happy or at least cheerful. "Wouldn't wanna crash now, wouldja?"

Xander obliged. "Any idea where we're headed to after LA?" He knew he would follow Willow and Buffy wherever they went, as long as they stuck together. They were best friends, after all. However, if it came down to a choice between the two, he would go with Willow. He had known her all his life.

"I'm sticking with the Buffster," she answered. After the split up in LA, everyone would scatter. But Willow intended to stay with her best friend.

"Not going with Kennedy?"

"Nah…she's nice and all with the cuddles and smoochies, but she's not you or Buffy." At least it was a part-truth.

"You mean she's not Tara," Xander mused. No denial this time. They needed to talk about this.

Willow bit her lip. "You know me too well." As much as she tried to ignore it, Kennedy didn't fulfill her, didn't have that connection with her. The physical part of their relationship was amazing, but the emotional…was nada. What she had felt with Tara could never and would never be replicated. It was completion – anything otherwise was a gaping hole that continually became deeper and deeper second by second.

"Ah. That I do." Xander pulled the bus over and opened his arms, inviting Willow in for a hug. "It's ok, Will…"

"No, it's not ok!" Tears began to fall down Willow's cheeks; tears she'd held back for an eternity.

"Look, Will," Xander moved to face her. "Tara's dead. You need to accept that. Would she want you to go on like this?"

Willow shook her head. "I tell myself that every second I'm awake, but when I sleep, the memory's so fresh. I see her body, and the blood. Then I realize I can't go on with her all over again." A fresh sob coursed through her body.

"Shhh…" Xander gently stroked her hair. "Go on. You can tell me everything."

"When I wake up, I wanna die and I want the world to die with me. Like in the past, remember? Then I think, 'What's wrong with me? Would Tara want me like that? It's like a 'What Would Jesus Do?' 'cept that it's not. It's a 'What Would Tara Think?' And I tell myself to go on living and cry myself to sleep again." Willow's body shook with the force of her sobs, her face hidden in the folds of Xander's bloodstained shirt.

"You can do it, Will." Xander kissed her forehead. "We're here for you."

"She was the best person I've ever known," Buffy said quietly from where she had been standing for the past minute. She laid a comforting hand on the redhead's shoulder. "And I can't tell you how much she meant to Dawn. We all love her."

"She meant so much to her family. And still does," said Xander.

"So where's our family headed to, Buff?" Willow wiped her tear-stained cheeks. She still had one more card up her sleeve against life: her friends.

"Helping Angel out. You?"

"LA then."

Buffy smiled; another sad smile, but with a hint of relief and joy. "Where would I be without you guys?"

"Well, headed towards LA?" Xander suggested.

"No," Buffy corrected. "I'd be dust. Or be rotting in a grave. Or drowned in a cozy little cave. Need I go on?"

"But then," Xander fought back valiantly, "you would have to ask yourself, where would we be without you? We'd also be dust. Vampires turned to dust, if you care to home in with the logical smarty-pants radar."

"And I guess that's why I'm here." Buffy's smile spread to a grin. "Saving the two of you from certain death and an eventual dusting."

"We can protect ourselves now, Buff." Willow didn't want to be looked upon as weak. "But aren't you glad it's over?" Now that the topic of discussion had turned from Tara, she had regained some of her composure.

"That's a definite yes," said Buffy. "And better yet, as Faith so kindly pointed out to me, I'm no longer the only active Slayer. But back to what we were talking about." She paused. "Do you miss Sunnydale?"

"Well, we did spend our whole lives there. Me and Xander, anyways. It was our home, Hellmouth or no," said Willow. "I know I'll miss it. At least a little."

"I don't miss Sunnydale as much as I miss what I left behind," whispered Xander.

"Anya went down fighting." Willow hugged her oldest friend. "And she died saving Andrew, a person she didn't even like. Would the old Anya have done that? No. She changed because of you, and in the end, I have to say that she was my friend." Willow wasn't sure if what she had just said was the right thing, but she wanted to remember Anya as a good person, and not just an ex-demon.

Buffy nodded in agreement. "We'll always remember her for what she did."

"Always doing the stupid thing, she was," Xander muttered bitterly.

"No, Xander," Willow frowned. "She wasn't doing anything stupid."

"It came down to worrying about herself, or about others…and she didn't choose the usual one," said Buffy.

"Kinda wish she had."

"Look, Xander, the people that we love are in a better place now, and they would want us to be happy. We need to live on to do their memories justice. Yes, we have a time to grieve, but not now, not when there are so many lives on the line. When this is over, I know that I'm going to sit down and cry for all the people we lost today, but right now, we need to get to LA." Willow took a deep breath. "We just need to go on living."

"Thanks, Will." A brief smile flashed across Xander's face. "All of us needed that." Although the phrase was mostly used with the tone of sarcasm, this time around, it was said with complete sincerity.

"Bu-" Willow began.

"All of us," Buffy confirmed, a tear finding its way down her cheek.

Willow understood, then, what she had been trying to deny. Spike. Buffy had loved Spike. He hadn't come out of the school, which meant only one thing. "He was brave and he's saved all of our lives Goddess knows how many times."

"This time, Spike saved the world," Buffy replied, her voice barely audible. Tears steamed silently down her face. "He used the amulet that Angel gave me to defeat the First's army. 'To be worn by a champion,' he told me. Spike…" Three more tiny droplets fell. "He was in so much pain."

Quietly, the three friends cried, arms wrapped and linked, exchanging strength and comfort. They wept for the dead. They wept for each other. They wept for all they'd been through.

After a while, Xander turned back to the wheel, and started the bus. Buffy and Willow made their way back to their seats and slowly drifted back to sleep. Except for the occasional sniff, all was once again silent on the school bus.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tara stood in front of her, eyes glowing, pain eminent. "Don't do it, Willow," she whispered, her breath soft like the wind. "Please don't do it."_

 

_"Tara!" Willow cried. "Come back to me, Tara!" She could see her love moving away, disappearing into the light at the end of the dreamlike tunnel._

 

_And suddenly, she was in the room they had shared; the room in Buffy's house. Tara stood by the window, smiling, hands in her pockets._

 

_Willow knew what would happen, like every time she dreamed. The fateful shot rang out._

 

_"Your shirt…" She sounded confused as she fell forward, canyons of blue closing._

 

_"Tara?" Willow dropped as well, clutching the blonde's body to herself. "Tara?! Baby?"_

 

_"Willow?" It was Kennedy, standing at the door to the room. "C'mon, we gotta go."_

 

_Willow squeezed tighter to the lifeless form in her arms. "Baby, come on! Get up! Get up damn it!" She would bring her back._

 

_"By Osiris, I command you, bring her back!" Magick would always be her first option in an emergency._

 

_"Willow?" Kennedy was shaking her now."_

 

_"Get off me!" Willow shrieked. "Come on, Tara. Please, come on, baby…"_

 

_"Willow!"_

 

"Willow! Wake up. You're having a nightmare."

 

"Wake up, Tara…" Willow moaned, Kennedy's presence not registering.

 

"Tara's gone, Will, let her go."

 

"No! She's not gone. She needs me! I need to save her, bring her back!" Willow made as if to reach for something; something that only she could see.

 

"Willow!" Kennedy grabbed her shoulders. "Tara is dead, and she's not coming back." She hated when Tara was brought up. To know that she wasn't the one Willow was in love with made her hate even the mention of the blonde Wicca. She didn't know why she was feeling this – it was odd. That she cared for this petite redhead surprised even her. It felt like the right thing to do, to comfort Willow – but it seemed like Willow didn't want that comfort. She wanted to drown in her sorrow as it ate at her day after day…

 

"She's my baby," Willow whispered, "I need her, she needs me." She began to sob. "I can't live without her." She couldn't let go. It was like this all the time, but this time there was more. It was like Tara was actually there, reaching out to her, just out of her grasp. Something tempted her to grab her by whatever means. Willow knew magicks might do it, but if only she knew what to do. Osiris couldn't bring her back, who could? Could she, Willow Rosenberg, bring Tara back? No…she couldn't. She had promised not to do that. "Tara…."

 

Kennedy gathered Willow into her arms, trailing her hands up and down the redhead's back. Slowly, the witch returned to slumber.

 

Kennedy was used to this by now. Every night, Willow cried for Tara. Sometimes, when she thought that Kennedy was asleep, and sometimes, shaking in her arms like this, upset by another re-enactment of Tara's death.

 

The Slayer sighed, closing her eyes. This would never work, her and Willow. For as long as she lived, Willow would remember and mourn Tara. No matter how she tried, she would never be able to bury her love in her heart. Willow could try to love her, but she would never be able to see Kennedy as she had seen Tara.  _Damn Tara._  Couldn't Willow see how much she loved her?  _I love you, Willow Rosenberg, but we both know this will never work._

 

Tomorrow would be a new day, and tomorrow, Kennedy would begin to let Willow heal on her own.

 

 

* * *

 

_Willow awoke to the absence of Kennedy. Looking around bewilderedly, the sun glaring brightly through the glass windows, she realized the bus had stopped. She also became aware that there was no one else in sight. Stretching luxuriously, she pulled herself up to the entrance._

 

Welcome to Angel Inc.

 

_So they were in LA. Where was everyone?_

 

_She stepped out of the bus and took in her surroundings. No human beings in sight. No Scoobie Gang, no mass of Slayers, nothing. Where was everyone? The witch glanced up and down the empty street, desperately searching for a familiar face, any face._

 

_"Buffy?" No answer._

 

_"Xander?" Silence._

 

_"Ta-Tara?" In desperation, she threw out her love's name as a prayer._

 

_"Don't do it…do-don't do it!" A hysterical voice was heard from a dark alley off to the side. "Please…d-don't make it happen."_

 

_Willow moved towards the source of the crying; a young blonde woman was huddled on the floor, long legs curled into a fetal position, rocking back and forth. "Are you ok?" Willow knelt down beside the shaking figure. "Is there anything I can do to help?"_

 

_The blonde lifted her head, and familiar blue eyes pierced the redhead. She gasped as a wave of desire coursed through her body. "Tara?" Even the sight of her caused arousal._

 

_"Don't do it, Will." Tara's eyes pleaded with her. "Don't let it tempt you."_

 

_"Do what?" Willow didn't understand._

 

_"It's coming…don't do it. Fight it. Fight it, damn it!" Tara leaped towards her, arms outstretched._

 

_"Tara!"_

 

Willow awoke once again, this time, with Buffy peering down at her concernedly. "You were mumbling Tara's name again. You ok?"

 

When Willow nodded, she leant back, allowing her to get up. "I was just about to wake you. We're here." She paused. "Kennedy told me to tell you that she went ahead to help set the place up."

 

"Are we at Angel's?" Willow pushed Tara's warning to the back of her mind. She'd think about what it meant later. Right now, she needed to focus on what lay ahead.

 

"Yep. Fred's out there doing her "Welcome to Los Angeles" speech. What a sweetie."

 

"We've met." Willow smiled briefly as she remembered her last trip to LA.

 

"Any chance?" Buffy asked. "For, you know…"

 

"I don't think it's gonna happen," answered Willow. "Either way, I'm with Kennedy right now."

 

"It's good to move on, Will. Things will get better in time."

 

"Thanks, Buff." Really, Willow wasn't so sure. What had Tara meant? Don't do what? Even now, the events from her dream were dislodging themselves from her memory. Willow shook her head. She wouldn't think about this now.

 

Buffy had already begun to walk towards the front of the bus, so Willow followed her. Together, the friends exited the bus amidst the rest of the survivors. Fred stood in the middle of it all, a grin spread wide on her face.

 

"You just missed my welcome speech," she exclaimed. She turned to Willow. "How's it going?"

 

"Shiny," Willow answered.

 

"Well, we've got everything set up," Fred continued as if she'd never stopped, "and I think we can comfortably fit y'all onto the bottom floor."

 

"Great, Fred," Buffy smiled at the cheeriness of the woman standing in front of her. "But we need stuff. Sleeping bags, clothes, money. None of us brought anything from Sunnydale. We need those more than shelter even."

 

"You have no reason to worry." If it was possible, Fred's grin grew even wider. "Wolfram & Hart will provide you with absolutely everything and anything you need. Partnership does have its benefits."

 

"Wolfram & Hart…" Buffy frowned. "Isn't that the law firm that was after Angel?"

 

"Yeah, but Angel made a deal with them. He's the CEO now. You should see all the cool facilities we've got now…science lab, entertainment department…"

 

Willow stopped listening to the exchange at that point and began to wander around the street. Like in her dream, she took in her surroundings. The street was the same, but this time around, people were traveling up and down the street, bustling and lively.

 

And there, just past the Angel Inc. building, was the dark alley where Tara had been. Willow was drawn towards the passage, moving quickly, hoping against all hopes that her questions would be answered upon her arrival.

 

But it wasn't meant to be. The alley was devoid of life; not even a rat stirred. She walked to the spot where Tara had sat, reverently touched the ground there.  _What did you mean?_   _Don't do what?_  She had always been able to decipher her love's thoughts, but the meaning of her dream words eluded her.

 

She stood there for another moment, lost in thought, before slowly walking back to Buffy and Fred, both still immersed in conversation. Apparently, the topic had moved to fighting techniques. "So I didn't realize how much it hurt when I kicked the demon. Maybe I shouldn't have hit its horns…" Fred cocked her head, mind occupied. She then took a breath and continued describing her adventures with Angel Inc.

 

Buffy didn't say anything, but just watched the excited woman babble on.

 

 

* * *

 

By the time evening came, everything was pretty much organized. All the younger Slayers had spread their newly acquired sleeping gear on the ground floor of Angel Inc. They had been able to get more than just sleeping bags and pillows…also toiletries, trinkets, and new pajamas. And there was a promise from W&H: more to come.

 

Meanwhile, the Scoobie Gang, including Andrew and Principal Wood, had gotten their own private rooms on the second floor with Fred and Cordelia, the latter still comatose. Angel, Wesley, and Gunn had left LA to organize a second front, and were just coming back now that the world was safe. If all went according to plan, they would be back tomorrow night.

 

Just before turning in for the night, Willow caught up with Kennedy, who hadn't been around all day. Busy setting up her sleeping bag by the staircase, she didn't notice Willow until she was practically standing over her.

 

"You don't have to sleep here, you know…" she said.

 

"Not tonight, Will." Kennedy shook her head. "I'm just really tired…"

 

It wasn't a good excuse, but Willow let it pass. "Oh. That's no problem." This was weird. Normally, Kennedy would pounce on this kind of opportunity. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

 

"Yeah, sure." Kennedy went back to straightening her bag.

 

Awkwardly, Willow retreated up the stairs and into her room. The furnishings were simple, but the room was quite comfortable. Settling into bed, she breathed in the fresh night air from the open window.

 

She remembered that Tara did this every night. "It connects me with nature," she had said, tilting her head back, closing her eyes, breathing in the scent of the night. Nothing would escape her acute senses…anything from perfume to freshly cut grass she would recognize and enjoy. Every smell would cause her to sigh in ecstasy.

 

Back then; Willow had never joined her at the window. Instead, she had sat on the bed, breathing in Tara. Vanilla. The two were one. Even now, she always carried a blossom of vanilla with her, everywhere she went. That way, her most vivid memory of Tara would always remain near.

 

She took out the flower from her blouse pocket, wrapped and sealed in a skin pouch. Willow had made this in England, at the urging of Giles. If Tara were near her, Willow would be able to feel her presence. Sense would replace verbal communication. And Willow had never tried this before, afraid that the spell would reveal that Tara was not here. That was what kept Willow from doing something irrational, her trust that Tara was close by, watching over her.

 

But now, she needed Tara more than ever. She didn't know why, but her longing for the blonde increased every minute. So she took the pouch, and touched the red lining that she had so lovingly made; cotton string died red with her own blood and mixed with Tara's hair. She let herself become totally attuned to the air around her, calling out her love's name in her mind.  _Tara…_ like a never-ending wail, growing steadily louder.

 

And then she felt it…a slight touch on her arm, and an invisible hand stroking her hair. "Tara…" Willow smiled. It was true. Tara would never leave her completely. "Hold me?" she whispered. And immediately, warm, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her lovingly.

 

Willow lay back, closing her eyes, and for once, she was confident that she would be able to sleep uninterrupted. Tara-ghost was protecting her, after all, and she couldn't be hurt by anything when Tara was with her.

 

 

* * *

 

Tara stroked Willow's hair, knowing that she couldn't see her. Every night since the day she had been taken away, she had watched over her.  _Just a few more hours, sweetie…_ They'd be together again, she knew that much. It couldn't be prevented. That was what the Goddess had told her. Prophecies couldn't be changed. Only the results could be altered.

 

And she needed Willow's help to change the outcome of this prophecy. If she didn't succeed…the world would end. And only her and Willow could do anything to stop it.  _Be strong, Will…_ Even though Willow couldn't hear it. She could only feel her until the time came. And she would need to leave soon.

 

So Tara squeezed the sleeping redhead tightly, trying to give her the warmth, courage, and love that would seek to elude the witch within the next few days.

 

_Be strong, my Willow tree…dream happy dreams._


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning dawned bright and early, and Willow rose with the sun. Her dreams had been about purple carrots…something she hadn't dreamt about for too long. In fact, the last time she had seen purple carrots was at least a year and a half ago…when she and Tara had still been living together.

So she had awoken expecting to find another warm body beside hers, but nothing was there. And that ache for Tara was back, stronger than ever. She knew Tara had been with her in spirit last night, holding her in her arms as she slept. But why did she leave? Why had she left her when everything had seemed to be getting better?

Because you don't deserve her, she told herself. But then why had Tara come to her? Why had she stayed near to her? She had definitely seen her with Kennedy, getting smoochies by the dozen at any time she pleased. Wouldn't she be jealous?

The answers eluded her as she made her way to Buffy's room, who was doing some early-morning aerobics. Willow knocked quietly on the door, observing the Slayer's graceful movements.

"Morning, Buff. Couldn't sleep?" There were bags under the Slayer's eyes.

"Not really." An awkward silence ensued, neither really having anything to say. Buffy didn't really want to talk about Spike, and Willow was too caught up in her thoughts about Tara.

"You wanna get some mochas?" A pause. "No? Ok." Willow turned and made her way towards the stairs.

"Wait." Buffy's voice was heard. "Get me one too?"

"Sure thing."

Downstairs, most of the Slayers were still sleeping, but Kennedy and Rona were up and rolling up their sleeping bags.

"Morning," Willow greeted.

Both girls nodded in answer and continued to clean up.

Willow waited momentarily, expecting a more intimate greeting from Kennedy, but it never came. She frowned. What was wrong with the Slayer? Was there a reason that she was being so distant?

"I was just going for some coffee," she began. The last thing she needed right now was more questions. "You wanna come, Kennedy?"

Kennedy nodded, a small smile gracing her face for a moment. They left the building and walked in silence the few blocks to the nearest Starbucks. After getting two mochas, they sat down opposite each other at one of the tables.

"So what's bothering you?" asked Willow. No babbling today.

"Nothing's wrong, Willow."

"Really, something's wrong. I can tell." Willow paused, frowning. "Don't you trust me enough to tell me?"

"Nothing's wrong, Willow!"

"Bullshit." Willow's voice rose. She knew when she was being lied to. "Something's wrong. You were too tired to sleep with me, in my bed, last night? What kind of lame ass excuse is that? And this morning. If you're my girlfriend, I should be getting smoochies, not little good-morning nods. Those are for acquaintances, not girlfriends. So tell me, what in the frilly heck is going on?"

"Your girlfriend is bothering me." Kennedy's mouth contorted into a sneer. "Tara's bothering me." She spat out the name like a disease. "I'm tired of hearing about her. I'm tired of waiting for you to get over her. Every night, I have to listen to you cry for her. I know you dream about her, why else would you be crying?" She stood up, knocking the chair she had been sitting on to the floor. "You don't realize how much it hurts me, do you? No. You're too busy wallowing in your own self-pity to notice my pain. You're a selfish bitch, you know that?" She heaved, aware of what she had said, but she couldn't stop. She needed to be heard, needed to let Willow know how she felt about this. "If we're not pouring the same amount of effort into this relationship, then I can't do this anymore. I don't think this is gonna work." Tears stained her cheeks as she ran out the door, onlookers clearing a path for her.

Willow didn't really react for a few minutes. I don't think this is gonna work. That was what Tara had said. Was it happening again? Was she going to lose Kennedy? She shook her head. She had already lost Kennedy. I don't think this is gonna work. The sentence ran through her head a few more times.

And suddenly, Kennedy didn't matter anymore. It was all Tara. There was no one else in the world but Tara. For all she cared, Kennedy didn't even exist. Who were those people staring at her, anyways? She knew none of them were Tara. And those voices…They think you're a selfish bitch…People stared at her accusingly. You know what can make it all better…She agreed with that voice in her head. The use of magicks was a small price.

Taking out the crushed Lethe's Bramble from her emergency pack of magickal ingredients, she whispered the word "forget" without thinking twice. None of the people here would remember her as the bitch. And so she left the coffee shop, people already forgetting who she was.

A few blocks away, she stopped, horrified. What had she done? She had used magicks that she'd sworn never to use again. Willow looked down at the crushed plant in her hand. It had come so easily, using the spell. It had been her first reaction. All that work in England thrown out the window because of a fight with her girlfriend? What was wrong with her?

Gradually, she began to make her way back to Angel Inc., her mind an entirely different entity from her body. Now that she had used the magicks selfishly, she was once again drawn to the power that came along with the practice. But what dam had snapped within her? Willow knew that she had completely overcome her addiction, especially after the nifty Slayer spell she'd done. She had pushed away the dark, so why was it coming back?

At her pace, it took her the better part of an hour to arrive at her destination, where Buffy was pacing worriedly.

"So where's my chocolatey mocha?" she tried to joke. Silence. "Ok, something's wrong. Tell Buffy what's wrong, Will."

"Nothing's wrong, Buff."

"Kennedy came back half an hour ago, and she hasn't said a word to anyone, hasn't looked anybody in the eye." Buffy eyed her best friend suspiciously. "And you're not babbly at all. Out of the ordinary, I must say."

Willow just looked at her through distant eyes. What's wrong with you, Rosenberg?

"Will." Buffy moved in to stand directly in front of her friend. "What's wrong?"

"Kennedy broke up with me." It was a part truth, but not the whole. She couldn't tell Buffy about the magick, she just couldn't. They pulled at her, tempting her resolve, offering her the greatest treasure of all, Tara. Why was this happening? "Called me a bitch."

"She's the bitch." Buffy immediately gathered Willow into a hug. "Can I do anything to help?"

Again, Willow didn't reply.

"Will, last time you broke up with someone…bad stuff happened. We can help you through it this time, Xander and me. You won't need to do anything you'll regret."

Willow retreated further into her mind at the small referral to Tara. Even though it hurt, she knew it was true. And she couldn't tell Buffy that she'd already done something regrettable.

"If there's anything you need to talk about, or if you just wanna hang, I'll always be here for you." Buffy squeezed lightly, and pulled back.

"Same to you, Buff." Willow walked up to her room and closed the door behind her, still lost in thought. Why was this happening to her now, just as everything had seemed to be getting better?

As soon as Willow left her sight, Buffy went to Kennedy, who had been sitting at the bottom of the basement stairs ever since she'd gotten back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She stared at the brunette accusingly. "She's completely crushed."

Kennedy, eyes red, couldn't look Buffy in the eye. "Do you really think I wanted to do that?"

"All I know is that she's looking like she did when Tara left her all over again. God knows what she could do in that state." Buffy's eyes stared coldly at the girl in front of her. She didn't even bother to keep Tara out of this. "And it's all your fault."

"That's the problem." Kennedy's eyes darkened. "Willow's still with Tara. In here." She touched her heart. "You can't have two girlfriends."

Buffy took pity on the younger Slayer, her eyes softening. "Tara was her soulmate, Kennedy. Nothing can change that fact. No matter what, Willow will always remember and mourn for Tara." Kennedy's face fell at this. "But I assure you, Willow is trying to move on, and she needs you beside her supporting her one hundred and ten percent."

A slight glimmer of hope appeared on Kennedy's face. "Does she?"

"She does." Buffy smiled sympathetically. "Give her a little bit of time to cool off. Then you can make it up to her."

"I just feel so bad…you should have seen her eyes when I told her that it was over. It was like she wasn't even there anymore."

"She went through a bad break-up with Tara, and then when they got back together…well, you know what happened." Seeing Kennedy's eyes cloud in anger at Tara's name, she changed the topic. "Just give her a little time to cool off, ok? And don't blame her about Tara…Tara was special. "

Kennedy nodded, her lips curling up in a small smile, but her eyes reflected the hate she felt for the blonde witch.

"Buffy!" They heard Giles shouting from upstairs.

Buffy gripped the Slayer's shoulder and turned to go upstairs.

"Buffy." She turned back. "You know…" Kennedy twisted her neck around, a forced smile on her face, "you're a lot nicer when there's no apocalypse to worry about."

Buffy smiled and climbed the flight of stairs to the ground floor. "What is it, Giles?"

"It's Faith." Giles looked extremely distressed. "She took some of the girls with her to take out Caritas." The after-hours demon hangout had been, at long last, vacated by The Host as he left town to search for a different source of income.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "What's so bad about that?"

Giles muttered something unintelligible and pointed at the sunlight peeking through the closed drapes.

"Oh!" Buffy knew what was wrong. A demon massacre in broad daylight would have every demon in LA after them tonight. It wasn't like Sunnydale – demons ran amok in the night. They had no one to fear – until now. "Rona! Gather everyone up. We're going to a demon bar, just like the field trip." She turned to Kennedy, who had made to move, but looked in no shape to fight. "You can stay here if you want. Should be quick work." Kennedy graced her with a grateful smile.

"Thanks," she mouthed.

By the time they arrived at the bar, Faith's group had taken care of about half the demons. Although they were outnumbered, they seemed to be holding up pretty well.

"Hey, B!" Faith paused mid-kick. "Glad you could make it."

"What made you come here in broad daylight?!" Buffy quickly staked a vampire that had been attempting to jump her from above. "Think about what's gonna happen tonight!"

Faith didn't answer immediately, but proceeded to throw a stake at a vampire behind Buffy. "Interrogate and shit later, B. We're still outnumbered two to one here."

Buffy nodded, but her eyes promised post-battle pain. She then jumped over a particularly vicious vampire. "Hey, wanna see a trick?"

Dusty, and blood-dyed in ten different colours, Buffy sighed. It was finally over; part one of the slayage, anyways. How could Faith have been so stupid? She had let her want for blood take over again. Would she let bloodlust capture any sense left in her? She looked over at the Slayer, questions invading her mind. What would happen tonight? They were too outnumbered to win.

"Don't worry, B," Faith chimed in, "we can handle them."

Buffy shook her head. "How can we know that for sure? They could fan out, and take over LA, and we wouldn't have enough Slayers to stop them."

"B, I –"

"Slayers can get hurt. Slayers can die. We've all got cuts and bruises just from that fight, but look at Amy, her arm's broken." Buffy stopped, fearing the worst. "They could die out there…they're all so young."

Faith slung a companionable arm across Buffy's shoulders as they walked. "So were we," she said softly. "They all know the dangers of being a Slayer. Hell, they understand that better than we do."  
"That's what I'm worried about." Buffy stopped, turning to the brunette. "They look up to you. They'll follow you to the end. You're risking their lives every time you lead them into a fight. I don't think you understand the danger!"

Faith's body tensed at the harsh words, and instead of answering, she broke into a sprint towards Angel Inc. Everything she did was wrong, no matter what her intentions were. And she didn't need another lecture.

"Faith!" yelled Buffy, running after the fleeing Slayer. "Stop!" She caught up with her and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to slow down. "You can't run away from things you don't wanna hear."

"Watch me," Faith grunted, shrugging Buffy's hands off her shoulder.

"Faith…"

"I know what I did was stupid." Faith stopped. "But sometimes, my head doesn't work so well with the sense. I don't think of the consequences when I do things."

"It's been known to happen." Buffy smiled slightly. "But you're in for some major slayage with Giles."

"He mad?'

"Quite."

"Well, here we are then," Faith smirked, pushing open the double doors of the Hyperion.

Buffy grimaced, as Faith knocked on the wall of the room where the former Watcher sat engrossed within Wesley's book collection. "Hey, G-man, what's happening?" Faith tried her best to act casual, causing Buffy to snort into her hand. But the unworried mood was pushed aside at Giles' response.

"How could you?" His tone was angry and accusing. "How could you lead twenty mere girls into an unneeded skirmish that endangered all their lives? Barely two days have passed, and you're already back to picking fights with all of demon-kind. I thought that you had changed."

"And I have, G-man." Faith shrugged, her face still nonchalant. "Just figured I'd get some demons off Angels' back, is all."

"I don't believe Angel asked for your help, F-"

"And I know he sure as hell didn't ask me to get his soul back," Faith interrupted, sneering.

"That's right," said Giles, a triumphant smirk uncharacteristically appearing on his face. "Wesley did."

Faith opened her mouth to reply, but found that she didn't have a good comeback. "Well –" she began, "he…I, uh-"

Buffy snickered.

"Shut up, B," growled Faith, her face turning a deep shade of crimson.

"Hey…" Buffy laughed, "Willow-blush."

Faith wisely shut her mouth.

"Speaking of Willow," Giles' voice softened, "how is she?"

"Not too good." Buffy sighed. "She wasn't really talking when she came back. Seemed really distant."

"Break-ups are tough," said Faith.

"It's not like you would know though," Buffy pointed out. "You're the one-nighter Slayer. No healthy relationships," she tried to joke.

"Look who's talking?!" Faith threw up her arms, completely missing the humour. "At least I haven't gotten it on with any vampires!" It had meant to be a painful jibe, but the words struck deeper than expected. "No harm meant, B."

Buffy nodded, her figure tense. "No harm done." Nobody said anything for a few minutes, knowing how much Spike had meant to the Slayer.

"As I was saying…" Giles broke the uneasy silence. "We must now worry about demons; tremendously angry demons who now no longer have a local hangout. Any suggestions?"

"I say that we take them out tonight before they can do any damage," Faith innocently stated, "but then you'd say I was trying to 'wage war on all of demon-kind'." She said the last sentence in a ridiculous British accent.

"I do believe that that might be the best option at the moment considering our situation," replied Giles, letting the taunt pass. "The demons will indeed attempt to take mortal ground tonight in their rage, and at all costs, we must protect this city." If Angel came back to find his city in ruins…well, Buffy wasn't going to let that happen.

"Then we need to get ready, tell the others to get ready," Buffy muttered.

"Where will you be patrolling?" asked Giles.

"Where we were before," said Faith. "It'd only make sense for the demons to start there."

"We should tell the others." Buffy, still quiet and brooding, moved silently out of the room.

Giles made to go after her, but Faith laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think B needs some time alone, aiight?" When the former Watcher relented, Faith sat down at the opposite end of the round table. "So whatcha doing?"

"I'm convinced there must be some prophecy relating to the new Slayers," he answered. "Care to join me?"


	4. Chapter 4

A few hours later, Buffy and Faith had gathered all the girls, most nursing minor injuries, on the ground floor for a briefing. The former espied Kennedy still sitting at the bottom of the basement stairs chin in hand. Nodding to Faith to begin without her, Buffy went to the brunette. "Hey…you feeling any better?"

 

"Not really." The Slayer's red eyes gave away that she had been crying again, although she did look more composed.

 

"Did you try to talk to her?" Buffy sat down on the stairs beside Kennedy.

 

"I tried to," Kennedy replied glumly. "She was lying in bed when I went to see her, so I snuck in and tried to talk to her, but she stopped me. When I tried to apologize, she told me to get out." Tears began to fall again. "Her face was so haunted and distant, like she wasn't even there, and there's a glint in her eyes that she's trying to push back. Just seeing her like that, and knowing that I might have caused that, it makes me feel so horrible."

 

"She's hurting. Just give her some more time," Buffy reassured her, not wanting to hurt the Slayer. Inside, Buffy knew that wasn't true. It was over between Kennedy and Willow. Truly, it had never begun, but Kennedy didn't need to know that.

 

Kennedy nodded, rubbing her eyes. "So what have I been missing?"

 

"Well, Faith took out some vamps and underwordly creatures this afternoon," stated Buffy. "Now it's garbage time."

 

Kennedy stood up and began to make her way up the stairs. "I'm helping."

 

"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Buffy, laying a hand on the girl's arm.

 

"I need to be strong, remember?" A hint of mischief flashed across Kennedy's face as she moved stiffly past Buffy to join the throng of Slayers.

 

"This is easier than before, but still important," Faith was saying. "Not world-ending or shit this time, but if we don't beat these bastards back, they'll destroy LA." She turned to Buffy with a "how was that?" look, motioning for her to continue.

 

"We'll need to stick together, since we're outnumbered, patrolling the area around the demon bar," Buffy ordered.  _Just like old times…me, battle commander._  "We'll need to load up on weapons, so take whatever you can find. Axes, swords, knives, stakes, anything. Everyone clear?" She looked around the room making eye contact with every girl, daring them to contradict her. She then fixed her eyes on Kennedy, questioning her readiness.

 

Kennedy, in turn, held her gaze, determined to stay strong in front of the other Slayers.

 

Slowly, Buffy nodded and led the way out of the building.

 

 

* * *

 

Dawn sat at the counter on the second floor, twiddling her thumbs. Why was she always left behind? She was old enough; in fact, older than Buffy had been when she'd started. She wanted to do something! "Giles, do you know how to do a demon locater spell?"

 

"Willow might have a book on it," Giles answered. "Why?"

 

"I just feel so useless right now. I want to help!"

 

"And you are, Dawn. I need some help to look over these prophecies, and your increasing knowledge in language is an immense help. If there is a new threat, we need to be ready to help."

 

"I still feel useless," Dawn muttered. "It's not like there's a big bad ready to destroy the world." As she turned away, a brilliant solution to her problem burst into her mind. "Unless the demons didn't go to the bar…"

 

And Giles took the bait. "I think we should ask Willow about that book." He stood up and left the room, a triumphant Dawn trailing after him.

 

 

* * *

 

"Will?" Xander knocked on the Wiccan's door. "Can I come in?" When there was no answer, he gently turned the doorknob and entered. "C'mon, Will, talk to me."

 

"There's nothing to talk about," was the muffled reply from under the tangle of sheets and blankets.

 

"I know about Kennedy." Xander inched cautiously towards her. "It's ok to be like this. Break-ups are hard. I would know." He sat down on the bed. "Will? Willow?"

 

The sheets just rumpled in further.

 

"I love you, Will," Xander breathed, "and I hate to see you like this, ever." He stroked what he hoped was her head. "I haven't seen you like this since you lost T-" he stopped, knowing it would hurt Willow more if he brought up Tara.

 

"Finish it."

 

"Well, I was gonna say that you haven't been like this since you lost teddy so many years –"

 

"What you really meant to say."

 

Xander remained silent.

 

"Say it," Willow ordered, "Say it!" Her voice broke.

 

"You haven't been like this since," he stopped, taking a deep breath. "Since Tara," he whispered.

 

"What does that mean?" Willow whispered back. "What does all this mean?" Xander could hear her sobbing.

 

"Is this about Tara?" Xander gently lifted the corner of the sheets, revealing the witch's trembling body. "You were doing so well. I thought you were better now."

 

"I don't know what anything's about anymore…"

 

"Would Tara want you like this? No way. And neither do I," Xander pleaded. "Tell me how I can make this better."

 

"Don't you see, Xander? You can't make it right. Only I can. It's so empty without her though, and I don't know if I can do it. She's my rock you know? I can't do anything right without her. And I don't understand, why I'm feeling like this. Everything was ok before, and I was getting better. Now, I need her more than ever, and I need her here, with me. And I don't know what's gonna happen if she isn't." Throughout her babble, her voice had risen steadily in volume. She pointed at the door, resolutely pulling the sheets back over her head. "I wanna be alone now," she whispered.

 

Tears fell freely on the face of the man beside her. Seeing his best friend like this really did break his heart. It hurt at least as much as the hole that Anya had left in him. "I'm always here for you, Will." As silently as he had come, he left the room, closing the door behind him. "Just don't fall apart on me again."

 

What he didn't see was Willow's tear-stained face, pale and taut, as she stared after him.

 

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, hoping that her voice would calm the constant whispering in her mind.  _Just the right spell…and she'll be back with you._  "No! Shut up!"

 

She curled her frail form into a ball, hands grasping her head. "Give me some peace. Let me think about it," she begged. Thankfully, the voices allayed slightly, giving her a moment to think. "Thank the Goddess," she muttered.

 

How had this happened? Why was her yearning for Tara so strong? She always wanted the witch back with her, but now, it was like a situation of life or death. And the magicks. The magicks were back, wanting to be used, demanding to be used. As if her giving in to the temptations back in the coffee shop had triggered a chain reaction of cataclysmic consequences.

 

The redhead rubbed her temples in an attempt to clear her mind. She had always thought that the magick could be only an addiction at worst, but now, it was different. It was like the magicks had a mind of their own, a determination to be used for selfish purposes; to be abused.

 

And they wouldn't stop until they'd gotten what they wanted.  _Just one little spell to make it all go away…_ the temptation had now grown to that of a never-ending pain and annoyance, threatening insanity or slavery.

 

The magicks throbbed in Willow's mind, aching to be released. She couldn't figure out why she had even needed the magick in the coffee shop, why she had been so willing to use it. What was happening to her?

 

She heard a quiet knock, and watched the knob turn slowly. "Willow?" It was Dawn.

 

_Not now, Dawnie…_ Willow couldn't let her see her like this. "Leave me alone."

 

The door opened anyways, the resulting light revealing Dawn and Giles. Both stared nervously around the room, unsure of Willow's reaction towards their presence. "Erm…" Giles muttered.

 

"We were just wondering if you had any books on demon location spells," Dawn piped out in an attempt to dispel the tension.

 

"I don't have anything anymore," Willow answered quietly. She turned away, not wanting her friends to see her condition. "Leave me alone."

 

A barely audible "sorry" was heard as the room was once again returned to darkness.

 

Willow began to cry again. The pain and loneliness she felt was magnified a hundredfold by the confusion apparent on her friends' faces. WWTT…What Would Tara Think? She ran it by herself a few times, but couldn't seem to come to a conclusion. What  _would_ Tara think about her actions?

 

_You can find out…_ Great.  _They_  were back again.

 

"Could you just be quiet?" Even  _if_  Willow gave in…"I already tried, k? Osiris said it. I can't bring her back!"

 

_Osiris?_  Willow heard laughter ring through her mind. She wrinkled her nose. The magicks found that funny?

 

"What?"

 

_Osiris is weak. Summon Hades. He will bring the white witch to you._

 

"I won't."

 

_It is your destiny._

 

"Then my destiny is to die." Willow bit her lip. She wouldn't lose all she had worked for. "I won't give in to your stupid mind-games." Tara was with the Goddess, and Willow would never, ever bring her back to the cruel reality of life. The blonde witch had given her complete devotion and love. She deserved to have that reciprocated in her memory. "I'll be with her when I'm supposed to be."

 

_What if that time were now?_

 

"What the hell does that mean?" Willow sat up, glaring at the space in front of her, as if there were an animate being there. She waited for the answer.

 

_Tara willingly gives her soul for your happiness._

 

"You lie."

 

_To lie is to defy the rules laid down by the Powers That Be. We do not lie._

 

Willow waited for more, but it never came. "Stupid voices," she muttered bitterly. "Just when they got me interested too…" But now that the tempters had finally left her, Willow could feel the fatigue that had been oddly absent of late begin to settle over her. So she decided to take advantage of the lack of disturbance in her head and made a journey to the shores of sleep, with plans to stay there for as long as the Goddess would let her.


	5. Chapter 5

"B, do you see anything?" Faith was getting restless from the waiting. The hairs on her neck stood up on end, bristling like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey…and at the moment, there was no prey in sight.

 

"Nothing at all." For the last ten minutes, Buffy had taken to pacing up and down the alley they were occupying. "I remember Giles once said that 99% of slaying was waiting…" She blew into her hands, rubbing them together for warmth. "Damn it's cold."

 

Faith heard the sound of distant thunder. "And it's gonna rain too."

 

"It's like pathetic fallacy." Buffy looked up, letting the raindrops strike her face.

 

"Come again?"

 

"Willow told me about it once. It's when the weather reflects the emotion and intensity of people." Buffy paused, wondering how she'd remembered that. "Or I think she did."

 

"You going brainy on me, B?" Faith smirked, imagining Buffy as a scholar with the hat, robe, and diploma.

 

"Negative. Just trying to put together a few new puns."

 

Buffy wanted to keep the mood light, knowing that tonight would be tough. They were outnumbered, and even with so many Slayers, she wasn't sure if they could come out on top.

 

"So what have you got?"

 

"Not much. I'm feeling out of it tonight." Buffy sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. A punless night was never a good one.

 

"Shit, B, no need to be down about that." Faith wrapped a comforting arm around the older Slayer. "We'll get through this."

 

"Buffy, Faith!" A young Slayer ran breathlessly towards them. "They're coming! Kennedy says she saw demons moving in from all sides!" Kennedy had insisted that she take lookout.

 

"So Brown-Eye's ok then?" Faith nodded at the wide-eyed girl in front of them, beckoning for her to return to her post.

 

"Recovering." Buffy gathered up the stakes they had been sharpening, all business.

 

"Are we ready then?"

 

Buffy nodded, brandishing a sword and a very pointed Mr. Pointy. "All set." She perked up, her 'spidey-sense' tingling. "And just in time too."

 

Faith didn't answer. She didn't need to. The two Slayers moved as one to meet the vampires approaching from around the corner. Faith immediately swung her axe, partially beheading a vampire, dusting it. Beside her, Buffy plunged her stake into another vampire's heart. "Hello Vamp Generation X!" she exclaimed, eyes widening slightly. At least another hundred demons moved towards them, surrounding them in the alley.

 

 

* * *

 

_"Will…" Gentle hands wiped the tears from the redhead's cheeks. "Shh…" Firm arms wrapped around her, a soft kiss on her forehead._

 

_Only then did Willow dare to sneak a glimpse at her guardian angel, afraid and hopeful of what she'd find all at the same time. She knew who it was, but her fear of losing this feeling drove her to question the reality of her soulmate's touch. But when she felt a soft hand cup her cheek, Willow found the courage to stare into the smiling blue eyes that watched her. "T-Tara?"_

 

_The blonde witch stroked the wet cheeks before her, her digits traveling the contours of the hacker's face, her lips erasing evidence of tear-trails as they moved along. "Just a little more, Sweetie. Soon, I'll be with you soon."_

 

_Tara knew she wasn't supposed to be doing this, but she couldn't watch Willow suffering on her behalf. It wasn't her fault, and she would have to give in, as per her destiny. They would both suffer in the coming days, and Tara knew that Willow would need strength and love, for her role would be the hardest. So Tara would give as much as she could to her love, to give her the courage to fight._

 

_"I love you…" Tara couldn't resist, gently pressing her lips to the other's, drinking in the taste that was purely Willow._

 

_Willow's senses didn't register the kiss for a moment, as she knelt dazed and confused. She didn't know how she had gotten here, or why her dream, for that was the only possible explanation Willow could think of, had become so much better so quickly._

 

_But when Willow felt Tara's lips on hers, a dam of pent-up passion exploded, careening through her senses, controlling her actions. At once, her tongue had darted into Tara's mouth, discovering and remembering, searching for proof of reality. One of the two moaned, undistinguishable whom. Hands moved to neck and waist, stroking soft skin, feeling._

 

_This seems so real, but so impossible all at the same time, thought Willow. But soon she didn't think at all as Tara's lips moved from Willow-lips to Willow-neck, gently sucking on her collarbone. Willow threw her head back in pleasure, cries for more escaping her._

 

_Tara complied, her tongue moving up to nibble on Willow's ear. But even now, she could feel them approaching, she had to go. Tara knew she would be punished for doing this, but if her suffering would lighten Willow's load, it was a small price to pay. But still, she had to go, as her control over the dreamscape slipped away._

 

__"I love you…" Tara returned to Willow's lips, leaving a chaste kiss there before allowing her hold on the dream to slip away, embracing the awaiting punishment._ _

 

_Willow loosened her vice-like grip on Tara's blonde locks, which she had been twirling round and round her fingers, moving to push Tara's head further down her body. After the brief kiss, Tara had moved back down to her collarbone, sucking harder, marking her. But Willow wanted more, even as she felt herself getting wetter. She wanted Tara to take her, to pull her over the edge. She continued to moan, until suddenly, she felt a warm sticky substance sliding down to her breasts. And Tara became a dead weight against her._

 

_Immediately, her eyes shot open, bending to catch the lifeless body in her hands. "Baby? Come back!" She hugged Tara's body to herself._

 

_"She brought this upon herself, you know." Dazzling white light began to solidify into an angelic-like being. "She knew the consequences."_

 

_"What happened to Tara?" Willow slowly raised her hand to shield her eyes, the brightness of the figure blinding her._

 

_"The white witch has broken the rules of her bondage in Nirvana and must pay for her disobedience." The figure smiled sadly, shaking her head. "Only you can save her."_

 

_"But I can't. I promised her!" She was torn, but she would hold steadfast to her vow. "I won't!"_

 

_"You must, black witch. It is essential that the white witch is brought back to the living. If not, the world shall end with her." The light began to fade. "The choice lies with you."_

 

_"Come back!" Willow swiped at the dimming glow. "Tell me what's supposed to happen! Come back!"_

 

_Willow shot up, hot, bothered, and quite confused. The dream really had been confusing. One second she'd been crying over Tara's lifeless body, and the next, Tara was comforting her in a peaceful utopia of softness._

 

_But what had Tara meant? How could they be together again? And why had the pretty white lady called her the black witch?_

 

_We can tell you what you need to do._

 

_Willow rolled her eyes. The voices were becoming more annoying than tempting now. "Oh yeah?"_

 

_Yes, black witch._

 

_Willow was confused with the title, but leaned back on the headboard, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, awaiting an explanation._

 

_You must bring the white witch back._

 

_"And you've been saying that for what, the past five hours?" Willow smirked. "Anything else?"_

 

_She suffers for you. Only you can end her pain._

 

_When she heard the word "suffering," Willow sat straight up, a worried look on her face. "She's hurt?"_

 

_Her pain grows, and when her spirit is broken, all shall suffer in return._

 

_About a thousand different emotions played across the redhead's face. No, she wouldn't believe it. "You lie," she said through gritted teeth._

 

_We cannot lie._

 

_"Tara is happy, she's in heaven. My baby's fine." Willow repeated the mantra in her head, determined that it was true. But still, there was that creeping fear that what the voices said was true…was Tara _really_  ok? "No, I would know if she hurt."_

 

_She loves you too much to let you know of her suffering._

 

_"Don't let her. Let me share her pain." Willow would never let Tara suffer for her love._

 

_So be it._

 

_And suddenly, Willow was on fire. Every individual nerve screamed in pain, begging for release into black oblivion. She screamed, and the pain was gone._

 

_You feel half her pain._

 

_"Half her pain," Willow repeated. She knew what she had to do. There was the possibility that all this was a lie, but she couldn't and wouldn't take the chance that Tara was not at peace and just sit back and do nothing. "How do I bring her back?"_


	6. Chapter 6

Robin Wood, former Principal of Sunnydale High, awoke from his most recent sleep. He winced as he touched the bandages around his stomach, his wound not yet fully healed. "Guess being a Slayer's son doesn't give you their gift of healing," he muttered. He was fine as a daisy, considering that the blow had been near-fatal. Giles had assured him he would make a full recovery.

But for now, he was well out of the line of danger, the glass of water on the nightstand being the most threatening object in his visual radius. Unexciting for sure, and safe…he couldn't help but feel useless. Wasn't he supposed to be out there, fighting the good fight? How he wished he were. In this little room off to the side, all he had to occupy himself with were his thoughts.

Not that he was complaining; he had a lot to think about – like Faith, for example. He didn't know what he felt towards the cocky Slayer, but he was definitely attracted to her. Was there something more between them? Or did Faith just think of him as a one-night stand? Her reputation would suggest that that was all he was. With all the time he had had to think over the past few days, he would have expected himself to come to a conclusion on the matter by now. However, he suspected that the object of his desire would continue to plague his thoughts until he found closure in a face-to-face confrontation of any kind.

And yet something was weighing on his mind; something not having to do with the brunette of his dreams. It was something he felt he needed to remember. Something his mother had whispered in his ear, as he lay in bed many-a-time.

"Be watchful," she had murmured, "for the time when a soulful vampire and the Slayers unite to fight a great evil. Two witches shall rise, and the world shall depend on the outcome of their conflict." Well, that time had come; but there was more to what she had said, although he'd never paid much attention to it anyways. Something must have stuck though, for him to remember even that much. His mother had believed in this prophecy, had urged him to believe as well. But he hadn't; and he couldn't really blame himself for not doing so.

Back in the 1970's, the Watcher's Council would have dismissed even the thought of two Slayers as a myth, much less a whole gaggle of them. But things had changed when Buffy Summers came along. She was different, a rebel, not a do-as-she-was-told Slayer. And she had changed all of that. No longer was it the Chosen One, but the Chosen Two, and now, the Chosen Group. That his mother had so vehemently believed in this had startled all around her – including her son.

And how could a vampire have a soul? Robin hadn't believed that possible, having never heard of Angel. That is, until he'd seen Spike less than a month ago. Back when Spike had killed his mother, he had been a killer, a Vampire Slayer's slayer. But when he'd resurfaced in Sunnydale, Spike had been changed. He had somehow, somewhere, gotten a soul; and not a cursed soul, but a human soul.

And what would happen with the two witches? Would they know of their destiny? Could anybody help them achieve what they would most definitely have to in order to save the world? He did not know. But all the things his mother had warned him about had come true. And he knew something else was going to happen, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Are you ready, Dawn?" Giles sat across from the teenager, holding a measure of potion in his right hand, his left flipping through the crinkly pages of the spell book, that they had been fortunate to find in Wesley's library. They sat cross-legged outside a square of string, amber and quartz crystals weighing down the four corners.

"You bet." Dawn replied cheerily, reverently cupping her half of the potion. "This is so cool!"

"The magicks are a dangerous force," Giles instructed sternly, a tight smile appearing for a few seconds. He couldn't help but remember his first real spell, during which he had acted none too differently, as giddy as a British boy could be.

"Yeah, sorry," Dawn blushed and shifted her body, composing herself. "I'm ready. Can I start?"

Giles nodded, closing his eyes.

"Thespia, we walk in darkness, walk in shadow. You are the protector of the night."

"Thespia, goddess, ruler of darkness, we implore you, open a window to the world of underbeing."

As one, they blew their halves of the potion into the center of the square.

"With your knowledge may we go in safety. With your grace may we speak of your benevolence," they chanted together, slowly opening their eyes.

Sure enough, the potion had begun to slowly move around the square, gathering in various-sized clumps, along and inside the interior of the square.

Dawn squealed her approval, pointing excitedly at the biggest clump that was at the moment, turning a bright yellow.

"That is approximately where Buffy and the others should be engaging the demons," said Giles, flipping through the book in search for any additional information.

"So we're at the center of the square? And all the demons are colour-coded according to species?" Dawn's eyes bulged. "Cool…"

"If that's how you want to put it…" Giles continued to scan the pages. "According to these charts, vampires are yellow, Grothlar demons are green, ven-" he frowned. "Oh my. It seems that we may have discovered a new species…"

If it was possible, Dawn's eyes opened even wider, a dreamy grin spreading across her face. "We did?"

"You see that violet clump over there? The book doesn't have a species for that colour."

"Well, purp's wiping out yellow."

And sure enough, on the battlefield-like square, the yellow clump was quickly dissolving, making way for the advancing forces of purple.

"Could the violet represent the Slayers?" Giles thoroughly wiped his glasses clean and replaced them on his bridge.

"Everything's good then, right?" Dawn smiled.

"I suppose so."

"You have summoned me, black witch." Hades, Keeper of the Dead, hovered menacingly in front of Willow.

"Bring Tara Maclay back to me," she shouted above the howling wind that had filled the room. This guy was scary, and Willow admitted that the flames surrounding the dark god intimidated her. "Return her to her love. Bring her to me!"

Hades scoffed evilly, as if having already known her wish. "The white witch's return cannot just be willed to happen. It requires much pain and sacrifice on your part."

"I will pay any price." Hades wasn't really all that bad, with the reputation he commanded. Maybe it was all the myths and movies, like in Hercules. Come to think of it, the movies must have been pretty wrong; Hades didn't have blue hair. No wonder she'd been laughing so hard when the Disney version came out…

"Black witch." Willow was shaken out of her mind-babble by the god's voice.

"Huh?"

"You would pay any price?" Hades sounded amused. Again, not so mean and evil after all.

"Any price," Willow confirmed. "Just give her back." She and Tara had never had the chance to work everything out after they'd gotten back together, never had the time to make things right. Willow was going to make everything right again; and that definitely meant no pain for her baby. If she had her way – and she would – Tara would never hurt again.

Meanwhile, a dark red dot had formed in the center of Dawn and Giles' demon-tracking spell; a dark crimson clump of dust in the exact location of Angel Inc.

"Giles, what does red stand for?" Dawn frowned as she caught sight of the new occurrence.

"Hell-gods." The ex-watcher looked up from another potential prophetic book he had found. "Why?"

"Because there's one in the building if this is right." Dawn pointed to the rapidly darkening spot.

"It can't be…" Giles fiddled with his glasses. "How?"

Their eyes connected in understanding and horror as they realized who it was. "Willow."

Kennedy pulled the crossbow trigger, and another vampire bit the dust. As lookout, she was well out of the action and the most she had to worry about was the occasional vamp that wandered too close to her vantage point.

This kept her safe and sound, away from any potential dangers. All Kennedy wanted was for this to be over. Then she could go and make things right with Willow. She had to…or else.

"Bring her back to me!" Willow demanded, accepting the pain that wracked her body. The energy gathering had begun, and more was to come. Hades had demanded penance for his favour, and Willow concurred. Furthermore, she would allow him take anything and everything from her. Anything was the operative word. Anything to save Tara. Absolutely anything. "Let her cross over!"

"There is more energy required, black witch." The hell-god stood to the side, seeming amused at the voluntary infliction of pain on display.

"Take whatever you need," Willow managed through the pain. "Undo my spells, take my soul, just bring her back."

Hades nodded, smiling. "So be it."


	7. Chapter 7

"Willow, open up!" Dawn rammed herself against the door, ignoring the painful shocks that went down her arm. "Oh damn it!" she yelled to no one in particular. Giles had run off to find Xander and Andrew, and to get an axe.

Suddenly, she felt a sickening rush, sucking at her energy, weakening her. It was a dark power, pulling at hers, forcing Dawn to feed its growing power with her own. She groaned, sinking to the floor and into black oblivion.

Buffy paused in mid-strike, a sickening feeling overcoming her. Something was taking her life-force, borrowing it to further its will.

She glanced around at the other Slayers. They'd felt it too. One by one, they fell to the ground, either beaten down or struck, unable to do anything about it. Only one withstood the attack.

Faith didn't know what was happening. Why was everyone getting downed? They were being swarmed, bitten and drained. There was no way they could win this now. She tenderly picked up the fallen Buffy, knocking away multiple demons trying to get a piece of the Slayer. At a dead run towards Angel Inc., Faith took in the gruesome scene of death, to both Slayer and demon. They had been winning, beating the bastards back. What the fuck had happened?

Multiple scenes flashed through Willow's mind, scenes with no immediate significance; scenes of weakness, death, but none of Tara. She was all that mattered; anything else was irrelevant. The pain was merely a means through which to get her back, a small price to pay in Willow's mind. She would and had offered everything she could.

Hades remained in front of the hacker, hands now splayed on her shoulders, using her as a conduit to draw in the energy required to bring Tara back. And Goddess, there was a whole lot of that energy coming in. Willow hadn't felt this good since…since Rack. But that had been dark energy, bad magick…but then again, couldn't this be put under the "bad" list too? She had good intentions though; this time she had a reason! Right? She was doing this for the good of Tara! And the world.

But doubts or no, Willow knew there was no going back. She'd already stuck her hands way too deep into the pool of tadpoles to pull them back out.

"All is ready, black witch. Are you?"

Willow nodded, strong despite the pain, resolved to resurrect Tara. "I am ready."

And with those words, Hades reached into her, moving to the source of her power, and taking the proffered light. "It is done," he boomed, his darkness disintegrating along with Willow's hold on consciousness.

"Willow!" Giles was back with the axe, now diligently hacking at the door. A normal door would have given way by now, but some supernatural force repelled the man's efforts. "Open the door, Willow!" he bellowed, beginning to tire.

"Dawn is starting to wake up…" Andrew whined. "What do I do now?"

"Help her up then!" Xander shouted, returning with an axe to replace the one he'd smashed in.

"What is going on?" Giles muttered. "Why won't the damned door open?"

As if in answer, the hinges of the door burst, sending the wooden frame into Giles and Xander. And it wasn't just the door that exploded outwards; the walls of Willow's room…weren't there anymore.

"Willow?" Dawn pushed past the blinded men, waving her arms to clear the debris. "You ok?" She gasped.

"What is it, Dawnie?" Xander pushed the door off of his body. "Is she ok?" He too stopped. "Great oogly-moogy!"

"Xander?" Giles groaned, throwing the other half of the door to his right – barely missing Andrew, sitting defeated on the floor – to stand beside Xander. "Oh dear…" he quickly removed his glasses, wiping them vigorously.

Willow lay in the centre of the room, pale and unmoving. But it was the person that lay beside her that instilled such surprise from the quartet of "rescuers."

"Tara?" Dawn rushed forward, instinctively trying to help the unconscious blonde witch. However, Giles pulled her back. She began to protest, but realized his logic.

"Ahem." Giles removed his clean glasses again, wiped them, put them back on, and repeated the process all over again. Averting his gaze, he turned to Andrew, who was just getting up.

"What's going on?" The nerd made his way over to the gaping trio. His jaw dropped. "Cool…"

Dawn grabbed Andrew's head, turning it away from Tara and Willow.

"Hey!" Andrew wailed. I've never seen a naked woma-"

"That's quite enough, Andrew," Giles said stiffly. "Xander, close your mouth."

"But – " Dawn did it for him, his jaw snapping shut with a resounding "clack."

A quiet moan came from the room. Tara was beginning to stir.

At the same time, Buffy also began to stir in Faith's arms. The brunette slowed her pace immediately, checking to see if the injured Slayer was all right. Buffy's eyelids fluttered. "Spike?"

That hit Faith hard. Even though Buffy had hurt her and been hurt by her so much, there was a place in her heart that would always be reserved for Buffy, and Buffy alone. "No, it's Faith," she whispered. "You're safe now." She lovingly stroked the blonde's hair.

Slowing to a stop, she gently set Buffy down on the ground, allowing her to sit up. "Oh…" Buffy moaned weakly, "what happened?"

Faith turned away. "Everyone's dead."

Buffy jumped up in Faith's face. "H-how?" She laid a hand on the brunette's arm.

"You all just fell over, like you had no energy, 'cept for me." Faith captured Buffy's eyes. "We were winning," she stated. "We were winning, and then everything just went to hell." A single tear slid down her cheek. "Why?"

"We're going to find out," Buffy said, turning away in slight embarrassment of having seen Faith's moment of weakness. She grabbed the other Slayer's hand, leading her back to Angel Inc.


	8. Chapter 8

Tara slowly took her first breath of two years, letting the oxygen flow through her body and allowing the pain to leave her mind. She repeated the process twice more, re-adapting to the once-familiar atmosphere of Earth. There were other people in the room, making different sounds, presumably the Scoobie gang. But Willow wasn't saying anything; was she even there? She opened her eyes and sat up.

 

_A scream came from the blurry figure to the left of the blurry figure to the right. Guh…Tara shook her head in confusion, blinking in an attempt to focus her vision. Heaven seemed to have so much more clarity in comparison to Earth. But she knew that scream. "Dawnie?" Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Dawnie?"_

 

"Tara!" Things were becoming clearer now. She could even see Dawn's big grin. But why was she not looking directly at her? Tara moved a stray lock of hair from her face, brushing an exposed brea-  _Ah!_ She was naked! The Powers That Be had sent her back sky clad?

 

And who was beside her? She looked behind her, catching sight of Willow's still form. "Will?" Immediately, she forgot her own predicament. "Sweetie?" She hesitantly touched the redhead's pale face.

 

Willow shifted slightly, her face scrunching in to resemble a baby waking from a nap. "Tara?" She stretched and opened her eyes. "Tara?" Willow threw herself into the blonde, hugging her tightly. "I found you? You're real?"

 

Tara smiled, kissing Willow's flaming locks. "You found me, darling."

 

Willow's eyes lit up as she felt a heavy weight lifting from her heart, a hole being filled. "I found you," she said, clutching Tara's hand. "I found you, baby." She touched Tara everywhere: eyes, lips, cheeks, arms, exploring the contours of her love.

 

_"Ahem." Giles forced his interested eyes to turn away, furthering his resolve by removing his glasses to once again clean them._

 

Reluctantly, Willow pulled back. She frowned. Why were the others here when Tara was so obviously naked? Naked! Her eyes widened, her hands a blur of motion as she grabbed for a sheet with one hand while moving to cover Tara's uncovered body from the open view of a goggle-eyed Xander and Andrew. "Get out!" She knew she didn't have to say more with Dawn and Giles around to clear away the peeping – or gaping – Toms. Right now, Willow needed to stake a claim.

 

Slowly, Willow moved her face closer to Tara's; unsure if this was okay to do so soon. Tentatively, she stroked the blonde's cheek, touching Tara's forehead with her own.

 

As if sensing the redhead's apprehension, Tara took the initiative, leaning in to brush the redhead's lips with her own. "I love you," she whispered. "I will  _always_  love you."

 

"Were you in my dream? Cuz I saw you and we were kissing and then you were dead, and I woke up and the voices told me you were in pain and you were! I felt it an-"

 

Tara silenced the redhead with another kiss. "I saw everything. I've always been with you."

 

Willow's eyes widened in fear. "Everything? Does that mean you saw me and Kennedy? Oh Goddess, oh Goddess, I don't love her, don't even really like her that much, I love you! Only you. And Buffy and Xander, but that's differ-"

 

Tara once again silenced the girl. "It's ok, Will," she said, smiling. "You needed to move on with your life. I'm so proud of you, sweetie."

 

"An-and the magick?"

 

"I understand why you did it." Tara kissed Willow's brow, gathering the redhead into her arms. "It's hard, you know, losing a loved one? We both know how it feels."

"You're so strong," Willow murmured into Tara's neck, utterly exhausted from her magical expenditures. "And soft. And mine." Encased in her love's embrace, she drifted off to sleep.

 

Tara shifted, needing to lie down, but not wanting to wake the redhead. Everything seemed so perfect now, with Willow here beside her, but it wasn't. She had wished for this for so long, and now that it had finally come to pass, all she could think about was the damned prophecy. If what it said were true, either she or Willow would have to die.

 

But not now. This was the calm before the storm. Mother had always told her never to take the peace for granted. So if they were only allowed a few days of happiness, Tara decided, then she would revel in them, make them the best days of her life, the best days of Willow's life. "Yours," she whispered, wrapping the sheet around them. "Always yours."

 

 

* * *

 

Dawn and Giles ran down the stairs, dragging Xander and Andrew along, both struggling to get back to a naked Tara.

 

"How do you think it happened?" asked Dawn. She was happy that Tara was back, but confused at the same time.  _How_  exactly, had Tara been able to come back?

 

"The only way that it could have happened was magick," answered Giles. He seemed worried, tense. "What has Willow done this time?"

 

"But Tara's back –"

 

"She could only have been brought back by dark magicks." He stopped, his back hunched in defeat. "There  _will_  be consequences."

 

In silence, they made their way back to the library, all lost in there own thoughts: some apprehensive, some fearful, some naughty. Xander and Andrew sat down at a table, while Dawn and Giles went back to their demon-tracking spell where a nasty surprise awaited.

 

"Where did all the Slayers go?" Dawn gasped. The area of the fight was now overrun by yellow. Only two purple dots remained, quickly moving to the center of the square, making contact –

 

"Giles!" Buffy and Faith burst through the lobby door, panting. "Something's happened!"

 

"What is it?" Giles ran over to the Slayers.

 

"Everyone's dead," said Buffy. "I'd be dead as well, but Faith got me out of there in time."

 

"How did this happen?" Giles asked worriedly. Were these the consequences of Tara's return?

 

"We just lost our strength. Kinda fell over." Buffy looked so small and confused that Faith touched her arm in a loving gesture that went unnoticed by everyone.

 

"I felt it too! That's why I fainted." Dawn came over to join them. "It was like something was…sucking at our energy."

 

"So why wasn't Faith affected? Who else wasn't?"

 

"None of the guys were. Faith. What about Fred?"

 

"Fred went to a meeting at Wolfram & Hart," said Buffy. "We wouldn't be able to find out anytime soon."

 

"And Principal Wood?"

 

"I'll go take a little look-see," said Faith, already making her way up the stairs.

 

"Was Willow hit as well?" Buffy asked.

 

"Willow…" Giles removed his glasses.

 

Buffy froze. "Oh God, she's hurt, isn't she?" Before anyone could stop her, she had run up the stairs and entered Willow's room "Tara?" Her mouth hung open. "Tara!" She fell back onto the floor, scurrying backwards hurriedly, white as a sheet. "What the hell's going on?"

 

 

* * *

 

"What?" Willow shook her head, unwilling to believe what she had been told. "It's not true, can't be true. I knew there was a price, but not this. No, this can't be it."

 

"Sweetie." A clothed Tara took her hand, rubbing soothing circles. "It had to happen."

 

"Twenty girls are dead because I gave in." Willow dropped to the floor, curling into a tight ball. "Don't say it had to happen."

 

Tara tried to gather Willow into her arms, but the black witch merely made herself smaller. "Don't touch me, Tara. I don't deserve you."

 

But Tara wasn't about to give up. "Darling, you couldn't have prevented it." Despite Willow's struggles, she wrapped her arms around the redhead. "You would have gone insane if you hadn't given in. The prophecy says so."

 

"Don't!" Willow screamed, tearing herself from Tara's grasp and standing up. "Don't try to make me feel better. I don't want your pity. It's  _my_  fault that all this happened, and I'll take the blame for it. I won't let any of you share in my pain." Before they could try to console her, Willow had run up to the top level of the building, entering the first room she saw and throwing herself onto the bed, sobbing.

 

Tara made to go after her, but Xander held her back. "Let her sort this out on her own for a bit."

 

Slowly she nodded, relaxing in his grip. Gently, Xander guided the Wiccan to the couch, setting her down beside Buffy.

 

"Tara…" Buffy touched her arm. "What prophecy?"

 

"The reason I-I had to come back." Tara looked down, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. "The prophecy of the Two Witches. Willow and I, we're the two witches, s-soulmates."

 

"That's all well and good then, right?" Xander sat down beside her. "Or is there a problem my genius brain hasn't seen yet?"

 

"Many years a-ago, H-Hades attacked the P-Powers That Be and won. In order to k-keep him from destroying the world, they offered him their most p-precious daughters."

 

"The Two Witches," said Dawn. "Right?"

 

Tara nodded. "B-But Hades was cruel. The Two W-Witches had always been lovers, soulmates. Together through eternity. H-Hades wanted to separate their s-souls forever. He m-made o-one witch kill the other. That way, one of them w-would go to hell. It would cause more pain."

 

"So you're saying that one of you is going to have to die?" Buffy began to pace the room. "How do we know whose the do-er and who's the do-ee?"

 

Giles stared disapprovingly at Buffy, wanting to reprimand her, but he was cut off by Tara's answer. "O-one witch would be marked by him beforehand."

 

"How does someone get marked? They don't just get Magic-Markered do they?"

 

"One of the w-witches will have h-had some former contact w-with Hades, made a deal with him. The other witch has to k-kill the marked witch or give h-herself as a sacrifice."

 

"You have to kill Willow," Xander confirmed, "and you'll have to live with the pain forever."

 

" _Or_  you could kill yourself, and Red would never forgive herself," Faith pointed out.

 

"So either way, one of you will go insane, and one of you will be dead," Dawn concluded softly.

 

"I'm going to k-kill her." Tara couldn't bring herself to say her name. "I w-won't let her go to hell." She looked away, not sure how her friends would take this. "She's been through enough, and I've had my share of heaven, or something like it. I'm n-not going to let anything happen to her."

 

"Can Hades be fought?" Buffy glared at the blonde, stopping her pacing. "Can he be stopped?"

 

"The Witches have fought him before. None have succeeded," answered Tara. "L-listen. If I kill Willow, she'll go to heaven, to the Goddess. She won't s-suffer at all."

 

"But if we were to defeat Hades –"

 

"If we fight and lose, he'll make us his demons. We'll serve him for as long as he wants us to. Neither of us will have peace. He'll have both our souls." Tara held Buffy's gaze, her chin high, awaiting a challenge.

 

Buffy relented, averting her gaze, but Tara pressed on. "His demons are everywhere. They've been sent to watch us, to make sure we can't win. They want us to fight;  _he_  wants us to fight back. Hades wants our souls."

 

A silence settled over the room of survivors. Nobody said a word as the information sunk in.

 

"I-I understand that this is a very important matter," interjected Giles, "but right now, there is another important issue that we need to address." He took off his glasses and rubbed them gently before putting them back on. "The demons at Caritas – were you able to beat them back before…you know…"

 

"We took out about half of them before whatever happened back there," Buffy answered, slipping back into her usual commander-y self. "Their egos took a beating."

 

"Right now," Xander interrupted, rubbing his eye patch, "I think we need to worry about our resident witches. I, for one, would like to see these two live long enough for me to walk in on them again."

 

Tara raised an eyebrow before looking down, a deep blush apparent on her face.

 

 

* * *

 

The site of the bar was now bloodier than before. Lifeless bodies lay slumped in every direction, some human, some not so much. Not a breath was drawn, not a single heart beat. Except for the one that had once stopped, and had started again, thousands of years ago.

 

"Rise my child," Hades whispered. "Your task is not yet finished. Your rest will not come so soon." He paused, thoughtful. 'These two are the last. My feud with the Powers shall be settled by the new moon." He looked back down at his oldest, most trusted servant. "Rise and watch. My victory cannot be delayed. One more fight and you shall at last sleep the sleep of death."

 

"Yes, Master, I will continue to watch the black witch. She and the white witch will challenge you, and you shall gain the last souls of the witch's line and your victory shall be complete. You will have humiliated the Powers."

 

Hades nodded, satisfied, disappearing in a flurry of wind and fire.

 

"Two more." Kennedy smiled. She knew the Master had placed her in Sunnydale in wait for this event. That was why she had asked to be look-out. The Slayer had known this was going to happen. Tonight was the night when everything would change. Tonight was the night when the prophecy would begin to manifest itself for the last time.

 

"Then it'll all be over." Willow would be so surprised to find that her ex-girlfriend was the original favourite of the Powers; the most powerful witch in history.  _And yet, not powerful enough to save Julia from eternal pain._  Was she still crying up there, in Nirvana, where no hatred or sadness should have been? One last job, and she would go to her love one last time, to ease her pain, before slipping away to eternity in Hell.


	9. Chapter 9

 

"Willow?" Tara sat down on the bed beside the shivering form of the redhead. It hadn't taken her long to find the Wiccan, her sobbing audible throughout the whole floor. "Hush, love."

 

"Are you really Tara?" Willow rolled over to face her. She touched the blonde's cheek. "Or are you just here to punish me? I couldn't just let you suffer! I love you too damn much. And the voices said that your strength was what kept the world in existence. You see? I was doing the right thing." A tinge of hope appeared on her face.

 

"I love you, Will." Tara smiled. Her redhead was still as adorable as ever. But her response seemed to throw Willow off of her optimistic hold and back into her pit of depression.

 

"You see?" Her voice rose in panic. "You're not really my Tara. You're another punishment. You'll fade away just when I think you're really here!" Willow threw herself into Tara-arms. "I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I'm a selfish ex-girlfriend. All I wanted was to see you again, to touch you, to feel you. And because of me so many people are dead now. L-like Kennedy!" She came back up, eyes bulging. "Oh Tara, I cheated on you. You weren't even gone for a year and I slept with another girl. I'm sorry, it's just that I needed someone to step back to, and when Kennedy looked like she was interested, I-I got caught up in the moment. I wasn't even thinking about you." She looked down, hanging her head in shame. "You would never have found someone else so soon if I had died. I don't deserve you anymore. You're too good for me. And I'm so confused."

 

Tara lifted Willow's chin, forcing her to stare into her eyes. "I love you, Willow. That's all that matters right now. I'll tell you everything…after." And she lowered her lips to the redhead's.

 

The kiss wasn't passionate, but tender, a comforting touch meant to calm. Neither furthered the kiss, the warmth of the other's lips enough to satisfy both parties. Willow began to suck on Tara's lower lip, her hand tangling itself in the blonde's hair. Moaning, she pulled back, with tears on her cheeks.

 

"You're real," she affirmed. "You're not here to punish me."

 

"Never." And the kiss resumed, this time on a more passionate level. Tara pulled Willow on top of her, hands teasing at the bra clasp underneath the redhead's shirt.

 

For hours, they explored each other: mouths, lips, necks, fingers, slowly re-discovering and re-mapping. Tops were discarded, revealing valleys of infinitely soft skin, begging to be found again. Bra straps were pulled down, allowing access to shoulders. The clasps were undone, uncovering sensitive treasures. Eventually, all upper body clothing had been removed, giving way to mouths and fingers that slowly began to re-chart the contours of bodies.

 

Whispered and moaned affirmations of undying love sounded as the witches took turns giving and taking pleasure. Mounds of flesh turned red from loving attention of both tongue and teeth. And yet they did not give in to the primal needs; instead expressing the heights of the devotion through their patience. True love, as had once been said, was when the flame could go un-fanned for days, weeks, months even, but still burn bright.

 

It was yet another hour before pants were tugged off, panties following shortly after. And as they began racing towards the brink of the abyss, a single thought echoed through their souls.  _I love you._

 

 

* * *

 

Downstairs in the dark basement, the Scoobies huddled close together, a sight for sore eyes. They had gone underground after the moans and cries of pleasure had begun to ring through the building. Unfortunately for them, the basement of the Hotel Imperion had recently become infested with rats, as Dawn had quickly discovered.

 

As Xander busied himself clearing away dead rats, Buffy and Giles calmed the screaming Dawn and Andrew. Faith had run off to save the undisturbed-as-of-yet Robin from any potential sexual scarring.

 

"It just couldn't get any worse than this," Giles muttered, plopping ungracefully onto a wooden box.

 

"If I hear one more 'Ah rat!' from either of them, I'm going to crazy glue their mouths shut!" Buffy plopped down beside Giles, albeit with more poise. "See them make any noise then," she added smugly.

 

"Wouldn't do a thing, B." Faith came through the door, supporting a worse-for-the-wear Robin. "They'd just scream through the glue. Then I'd have to bruise them 'til they couldn't make any noise. Then you'd beat the shit out of  _me_  for hitting your kid sister." She took out her dagger, smiling. "Guess I'll have to settle for the rats." She threw her weapon, impaling a fleeing rat. She pulled her knife out with a satisfied grin, but a sickening stench then filled the air.

 

"Oh, good going, Faith." Buffy grimaced, covering her nose. "As if it didn't stink enough already."

 

Faith shrugged it off, seemingly nonchalant, but she moved to a window, opening it and sticking her head out.

 

"As much as I love you guys, hurry up with the loving, it's hell down here," Buffy thought aloud.  _And let's get this baddie back to Hell where he belongs._

 

"Anyone wanna play truth or dare?" Andrew looked around hopefully.

 

Reluctantly, the Scoobies huddled together in the least-infested corner beside the open window, desperate for anything that would drown out the incoherent begging screams of ecstasy that came from somewhere up above.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not finishing what I started. This is an old story I wrote years ago and am retro-posting for completion.

They lay side by side, skin on skin, exchanging slow sensual kisses. "That was… wow," Willow groaned. The connection she had with Tara just now was mind-boggling – their bodies and souls were intertwined, and the scent of their love still hung in the air. She kissed Tara's neck. "I love you, baby."

 

The blonde smiled and nuzzled Willow's hair, but frowned and pulled back after a moment. "W-we need to talk," Tara said gravely. She had seemed distant and thoughtful for the past few minutes as they lay cuddling in the bed.

 

"About what?"

 

"Why I could come back."

 

"Because I brought you back," Willow frowned. "You came back because I wanted you enough."

 

"T-that's not true, sweetie." Tara sighed, stroking Willow's cheek with the back of her hand. "Nothing would have been able to bring me back. Not even your love."

 

"I don't understand…"

 

"Everything that's been happening…happened for a reason. It's happening because the prophecy said so."

 

"Prophecy?"

 

"The prophecy about us. Y-you've been hearing voices, right? Telling you to use magick? To bring me back?"

 

"Yeah…" Willow's frown deepened. "Were they sent to annoy me into bringing you back?" When Tara nodded slightly, her green eyes darkened, betraying her panic. "A-and I gave in! I haven't learnt anything! One little button is all anyone needs to press, and boom, I'm all dark-magick Willow!"

 

"That's n-not true!" Tara kissed Willow's forehead, motioning for the redhead to lie back down. "It's a wonder you even lasted that long. Nobody can hold out after Hades marks them."

 

"But Hades isn't that bad!" protested Willow. "He's just a misunderstood demon who –"

 

"Who just happens to want our souls," Tara interrupted softly. "Don't you see, Will? Nothing would have been able to prevent all of this from happening. If you hadn't given in to the voices, Hades would have sent something else to tempt you until you gave in. Hades controls everything now…the Summer Land, The Powers That Be…h-he wants to defeat the Goddess…"

 

"Are you saying that everything we've gone through wasn't something we chose?" Willow was crushed. "Was our love even real?"

 

"Y-yes!" Tara quickly kissed Willow's brow. "It's the only thing he can't control. Us. Our love."

 

"Then why did you have to die? I mean, we were controlling our own destinies…right?"

 

"W-we couldn't, can't, stop prophecy, sweetie." A tear fell down Tara's cheek, only to be wiped away by Willow's fingers.

 

"Baby, what is it?"

 

"I-I have to tell you something," Tara whispered, "and you'll hate me for s-saying it."

 

"Tara." Willow leaned in, capturing the blonde's lips in a tender kiss. "I could never hate you."

 

"Oh, W-Will!" Tara kissed the redhead once more, and once more after that. Taking a deep, calming breath, she continued. "R-remember when we were talking about h-how cool it would be to b-be the focus of a prophecy? W-we are, a-and one of us h-has to d-d-die."

 

 

* * *

 

Kennedy quietly eased open the double doors of the Imperion, trying her best to look battle-worn. "Hello?" The hall was empty. All the better – she would have time to prepare. She had to stay close to Willow and this other witch, by any means possible, even though any hopes of a more intimate relationship with the redhead were gone with the soulmate back. Pity they'd never gotten further than some mild petting – Willow was pretty hot, and to be able to say that she had succeeded in seducing one of the two witches would have garnered infinite respect from the underworld minions. Moreover, if only for a fleeting moment, Willow had helped her to forget the huge void that the absence of Julia created.

 

She shook her head. Either way, she would need to act as she had before, eager to get Willow back. So – she rolled her shoulders back, a smirk appearing on her face – into role.

 

The Slayer muttered an incantation, causing deep lacerations and bruises to appear along her body. Ow. She felt the blood gushing out as she sank to the floor, and as she lost consciousness, she couldn't help but wish all of this would end soon.

 

 

* * *

 

It was the second shock that Willow had received within the last twenty-four hours, and she wasn't boding well. It was too much. First, with the killing…now, to be killed. Why couldn't evil just leave her the fuck alone? "T-there has to some way around this." She held Tara's gaze, pleading with her to unveil a loophole. "Please." She was asking, begging. "Tell me there is a way."

 

But Tara looked away. "I-I won't let any more h-happen to you, Will. You've been through enough. A-and you'll go straight to heaven. It w-won't hurt at all."

 

"I don't care," Willow replied. "There has to be a way for us to defeat this. Together. I-I just found you again! This can't be true…"

 

Tara brushed back a lock of Willow's hair in a tender caress. "You wouldn't have been able to find me again if the prophecy wasn't true," she reminded quietly.

 

"Why can't we fight him? Why can't we fight Hades?"

 

"If we lose, he'll take both our souls." Tara kissed Willow softly. "Better mine than yours," she said grimly. "Would you want to be condemned to Hell?"

 

"Why won't you understand?" Willow scrambled out of bed, hurriedly throwing shirt and jeans on. "Better in hell with you than without you in paradise!" Sobbing, she ran downstairs and out the door – she just had to be away right now.

 

"Will!" Tara grabbed a bathrobe and ran after her, but was held up when she happened upon the injured girl in the lobby. Her whole being was telling her to run after Willow, but she felt obliged to help this person. "H-hey, are you okay?" The young woman was mumbling in delusion, barely holding onto consciousness.

 

"H-help…" the girl forced out. "Buffy…Faith…Slayers…o-only me."

 

And Tara understood. This was one of the new Slayers. "Buffy…" She had to find Buffy. Buffy could help this girl. Tara had to find Willow. The blonde's mind was in panic mode. "B-Buffy!"

 

The basement door flew open as Buffy and Faith answered her call. "Kennedy!" They carefully adjusted the brunette's position on the floor.

 

"Kennedy…" So this was the Slayer that Willow had been talking about. She was pretty. Tara knew that as a natural human reaction, she should have resented the girl, but she just couldn't seem to do so. There was such sadness in her aura that Tara's heart reached out to her, wanting to help ease the pain. "W-will she be okay?"

 

"Should be," grunted Faith. "Got cut up pretty bad. A wonder she's still breathing, huh?" The two Slayers were doing a quick check of Kennedy's body, searching for broken bones. "Anything, B?"

 

"We can move her." Buffy gently lifted the wounded Slayer into her arms. "Thanks, Tara. We'll take it from here."

 

"I-I have to find Willow." Tara began to make her way to the door, but realized that with the head start Willow had, she'd never be able to find her. She looked around in dismay, trying to devise a way to locate the redhead. Then it came to her. "O-of course!" Gracefully, she flowed into a cross-legged position on the floor, a bright light – or her "Tinkerbell," as Xander had put it – coming out of her a moment later.

 

 

* * *

 

Willow had run, not caring of the dangers that awaited her in the darkness, and now, she knew she would regret her rash decision. Though she was loathe to admit it, she was lost. The shadows of guilt surrounded her, threatening to engulf and consume her.

 

 _Willow…_ She turned, her arms flailing in an attempt at self-defence – but there was nothing but dark.

 

 _Willow…_ It came from all around now – a condemning, mocking voice. The darkness devoured her, not unlike the shadows that had devoured Carl Bruner in "Ghost" – taking her away for past and future sins.

 

 _Damned…_ it whispered,  _damned to hell._  And Willow couldn't help but agree. She had all but given up – anywhere without Tara was hell. Like now. She was so lost, alone. And even more lost and alone would she be if Tara went to hell, and her to...heaven. Heaven seemed such a punishment – it would be paradise without the one being that made any place a paradise. Tara didn't deserve to go to hell. If anyone, it should've been her, Willow Rosenberg, who most deserved to go.

 

 _Willow!_  The voice had changed – no longer condemning, but urgent and pained.  _Willow!_  She looked up. Dark cloaked figures circled around her – women, maidens, mere children.  _Fight the prophecy. Free us._

 

"Who are you?" Were these the witches of old who had fought and lost? Or the lovers who had sacrificed themselves for their soulmates?

 

 _We belong to the Dark King,_  they wailed.  _We are the ones who came before you. You, witch, are the last – the last he needs. Only you can free us._

 

"H-how?" Willow questioned. "How can I free you? If I could I would, but how? I can't fight a hell-god!"

 

_Challenge him…fight him…win._

 

"Yeah, I know that. Win and be happy, lose and be sadly. But how?"

 

 _The fiiirrst…youuuu muuuuuusssstttttttt…_ with a deafening shriek, the figures began to circle round and round, rapidly picking up speed. With a thunderous noise, the cloaked shadows disappeared, their exit punctuated with a painfully hot spray of dust. Hades had called them back.

 

Willow sighed, taking her head into her hands. Things hadn't gotten any better – she hadn't learnt anything from her visitors, nor did she have any idea what to do next. And she was still lost…in more ways than one. "Tara…" she whimpered. "I'm so lost, baby. And you're mad at me, I'm sure. I'm so sorry, so so sorry – f-for everything."

 

 _I'll always forgive you, Sweetie_.

 

Willow jumped. "Tara? Where are you?"

 

 _Right here, darling._ A dim flickering light whizzed around the corner towards the redhead, growing steadily brighter as it got closer.  _I will_  always _find you._  The bulb of light bounced up and down in front of Willow, periodically touching her face.  _Let's get you h-home._

 

Willow nodded, allowing Tara to begin to lead her back to the Imperion. As she faithfully followed, Willow couldn't help but hope. Perhaps she could convince Tara to fight. Now that she had had time to calm down, she understood that Tara's decision to sacrifice her own soul had been out of love. How could Tara love her so much after all she'd done?

 

She hated this. She hated having to hand each tomorrow over to speculation. She hated having to risk her life every night, even if it was for the sake of keeping others safe. Was it too late to leave? Was it too late to just sweep Tara into a car and drive away to safety? Couldn't she just have a normal life?

 

No. Willow already knew the answer. They were witches, and because of that, they could never really be rid of the supernatural. But couldn't they, you know, take a break? Just get away a-and settle down, find a job, and raise a family?

 

After this. Just one more…

 

"Willow?" She whipped around, brushing a hand off her shoulder.

 

"Angel?" Immediately, a smile broke across her face.

 

"I just got back from some business. Wes and I saw you a while back, but we weren't sure if it was really you. Er, who's the fairy?" He eyed the bobbing light curiously.

 

"Oh, that's Tara. She was leading me home – I got kinda lost."

 

"Tara?" Angel raised an eyebrow. "Isn't Tara, um, you know…"

 

"C-can I tell you in the car?" Willow didn't feel comfortable standing on a dark street in the middle of the night, regardless of the company she was in.

 

Angel shrugged and began to walk back to his car, beckoning for Willow to follow.

 

"Baby?" Willow offered her hand to Tara, who obliged. Once she was comfortably settled in the palm of Willow's hand, the redhead created a fist around the light and joined Angel at the car. She slid into the backseat and closed the door after her. "Wesley," she greeted.

 

In return, the former demon-hunter nodded. "Willow."

 

On the way back to Angel Inc, Willow told the two men what had been going on in their absence. Surprisingly, neither seemed phased that Tara had been resurrected. However, the massacre of the Slayers cast a blanket of silence over the occupants in the car.

 

"They're all dead?" Angel leaned back in his seat, his face troubled. "How did that happen?"

 

"It was my fault." Willow looked down, ashamed. "I-I gave into Hades."

 

"Hades?" Wesley turned around once more, raising an eyebrow at Willow

 

And so she told them about the prophecy involving her and Tara. "We don't know a lot right now…just that either me or Tara has to die."

 

"I knew a witch once," said Angel. "Back in the 50s', I met Dre down in Mexico. She was being mugged, so I helped her out and walked her home, but she just scowled at me and begged me to kill her. I asked her why…she didn't answer really. Said something about having killed her lover, and mumbled on a bit about a prophecy."

 

"What happened to her?" asked Willow. Maybe this Dre could help them out.

 

"I went back the next night. She'd killed herself."

 

"Oh." Willow looked away – and the car was once more silent.

 

"Have you looked into the books yet?" Wesley asked, after a while.

 

"Not yet. Everything's been just a teensy bit hectic and we haven't had time to get organized."

 

It was then that they arrived back at the Hyperion. Willow ran inside, desperate to reunite with Tara. She discovered her lover's inert figure in the lobby and immediately unclenched her hand, allowing Tara to return to her body.

 

"W-Will!" Tara gasped. Scrambling to her feet, she threw her arms around Willow's neck. "Oh, Sweetie…"

 

Willow closed her eyes and held on tight to the blonde, bathing in the warmth of being loved. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, burying her face in Tara's neck. Hesitantly, she kissed the skin there, breathing in the vanilla scent.

 

Tara stroked Willow's hair, whispering soothingly into her ear. After a while, she just closed her eyes and held the redhead. "It's okay, Will." Gently, she kissed Willow's ear. "Y-you just needed some time to yourself."

 

"How do you always do that?" Willow wondered aloud, pulling back to gaze into Tara's eyes. "How do you always forgive me?"

 

"Because I love you." Tara smiled, leaning in to give the redhead a reassuring kiss. Willow could be  _such_  a worry-wart.

 

Willow nodded, reverently stroking her angel's face, getting lost in her eyes, imagining how she was going to show Tara the depths of her love…

 

"She's awake." Giles' voice broke the couple out of their trance.

 

"Who's awake?" Willow raised an eyebrow.

 

"When I was chasing after you, I-I found K-Kennedy on the floor," said Tara. "She was r-really hurt, but alive."

 

"She's pulled through, much as I thought she would," affirmed Giles. "Do you want to see her?"

 

The two witches glanced at each other, unsure of what the other wanted to do. Willow didn't want Tara to feel uncomfortable in the presence of her ex-girlfriend, and Tara didn't Willow to feel nervous in addressing her former…lover.

 

"I-I guess –"

 

" – we should talk to her, huh?" Willow finished. Tara nodded in answer, reaching down to clasp their hands together. They could do this. They could do this.

 

"Let's go," said Tara. She began to walk towards Buffy's room, where they were keeping Kennedy.

 

"Hey, Tara." Buffy, as acting nurse, smiled as she opened the door for them. She seemed to be tip-toeing around the pair since Tara had told her about the prophecy, frightened, almost. "H-hey, Will." She looked away nervously.

 

"Buffy?" Willow stopped, nodding for Tara to wait, as she touched Buffy's arm. "Look, I'm still Willow and Tara's still Tara. We're not gonna turn you into a frog. We're not going for world domination. We're not becoming evil witches. Nothing to be afraid of."

 

Buffy nodded, looking away sheepishly. As always, Willow had seen right through her. "Sorry, it's just overwhelming. I mean, you, Will, super-super-super witch who's part of a prophecy!"

 

"Buff, that's exactly what I thought when I found out you were a Slayer. It was just that I was too shy to say anything about it." Smirking, she squeezed the Slayer's arm before going through the door.

 

Willow froze when she caught sight of the room's occupant. Kennedy looked…horrible. Bite marks and bruises were apparent all over her body and both arms were in slings. "Hey, Ken," Willow managed. She smiled hesitantly, moving over to sit at the foot of the bed.

 

"Willow." Despite her obvious pain, Kennedy smiled wearily at the redhead. "You're looking better, Red."

 

"Yeah, I guess I am." Unconsciously, Willow squeezed Tara's hand. "But you're not."

 

Then, Kennedy noticed Tara. She frowned, the expression deepening as realization dawned on her face. "Tara," she spat out.

 

"Hi, Kennedy." Putting up a strong front, Tara sat down on the bed beside the Slayer, smiling warmly. "How are you doing?"

 

"Been better," Kennedy leered. "She's ugly," she tossed to Willow. "Jealous too. I can sense it."

 

Willow shot a worried glance at Tara – missing Kennedy's smirk – before getting up. "Ken…" she warned.

 

"Don't you understand, Will?" Kennedy tried to set up, but fell back defeated as she cried out in pain. "I…love you, and you've…you've just been using me as a fucking rebound. I was just a convenient lay while you found a way to bring your "true love" back. You couldn't even begin to comprehend my love. You don't feel shit for me."

 

"That's – " Willow wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. In many ways, she had been using Kennedy. Yes, she had been a convenient rebound. Yes, always in the back of her mind she would have fantasies of a time when she and Tara would be together again. She was physically attracted to Kennedy, but nothing more – and Willow knew that would never be enough to have a solid relationship. She didn't love her. Kennedy had been her object – the one who occupied her heart was Tara. She had used and abused her – but Willow's pride prevented her from admitting it to anyone but herself. Willow looked away, silent and ashamed.

 

"Heh." Kennedy smirked again.  _Guilty_ , she mouthed to Tara.

 

The blonde looked away. Tara wanted to be mad, but she just couldn't. She understood why Kennedy was so upset. Willow had been using her, and nothing else – if she were in Kennedy's situation, she would be angry as well. "W-we'll give you some time to cool off." Tara motioned for the redhead to follow her out of the room.

 

Upon exiting, they were stopped by Buffy. The Slayer didn't say anything, but quietly observed the witches for a moment before continuing into Kennedy's new room.

 

Tara gently guided Willow back to their room and sat her on the bed. She closed the door, and then sat down beside her lover. The redhead sat huddled, hugging her knees to her chest. "Sweetie?" She propped her thumb beneath Willow's chin, forcing eye contact. "It's okay, alright?"

 

"Why do I always make everything worse?" Willow whimpered. Her voice was high and strained, as if at any moment her delicate control over her emotions would crack. "I can never do anything right – ever. No matter, how, how hard I try, or, or how good my intention are, all I ever manage to do is fuck things up for everyone around me."

 

Willow closed her eyes as hot tears of shame fell down her cheeks. "You're back, and I should be happy – but I'm not. I'm gonna lose you as quickly as I found you. Please, Tari," she sobbed, "stay with me! I don't want you to leave." Her words seemed childish and irrational, but she spoke from her heart, something she hadn't done for the past year. Ever since she had lost Tara, a part of her had been lost in absolute eternal pain. She couldn't function, and to keep herself alive she shut down that part of herself – she closed off her heart and emotions to the world. Her life…became a lie and she, a shell of herself. Willow didn't want to become that shadow again.

 

Tara wrapped her arms around the redhead's neck and leaned forward so that they sat forehead to forehead. "I…" She kissed the redhead's cheeks, tasting her salty tears. "I don't want to leave you, Sweetie – I never want to. When I was…gone, I would pray to the Goddess for as long as I could to send me back to you, by whatever means she saw fit. I never thought that this would happen, Wil –"

 

"If you're going to Hell, I'm coming with you," whispered Willow. "And you can't change that." She said this with absolute seriousness, leaving no room for Tara to argue.

 

Slowly, Tara nodded, although inside she cried out in frustration. Why couldn't Willow understand that all she wanted to do was keep her safe? "W-we'll get through this," she said. "We will." Tara shifted her body so that she could hold Willow in her arms as she pulled the covers over their now-intertwined bodies. She nodded, as if to reassure herself that what she was telling wasn't a lie. "We'll get married, have children, and grow old together after all of this. We'll go away, and we'll live happily ever after."

 

Willow blinked back tears as she nuzzled her nose into Tara's neck and breathed in the familiar scent. It was their picture-perfect future, but neither seemed to be able to pull up that image just now.

 

 

* * *

"Ken, I know you're hurt, but cut Tara some slack, huh?" Buffy crossed her arms sternly as she stood over the fallen Slayer. "When you found out about Tara, you knew what you were getting into with Will. You  _knew_  that Tara would always come first in Will's heart. I know this is mean…but suck it up – be a big girl."

 

In a flash, Kennedy lashed out at Buffy with her bandaged arm, but her clenched fist was effortlessly stopped by Buffy's palm. "Look here, Slayer," she said with deadly seriousness, "leave Tara alone. I am  _not_ going to let her get hurt, and definitely not by a brat like you. She has a lot on her plate, and she's keeping it together for everyone's sake, so leave her the hell alone."

 

"Fuck you," Kennedy spat. She lay back down, sulking.

 

"Good night, Ken." Buffy patted the brunette's arm and turned off the bedside light. "Get some sleep."


	11. Chapter 11

 

The study was packed and Wesley's literary collection was being put to full Scoobie-usage as the group went through the library, going over each book with a fine-tuned comb. As of far, their search remained fruitless.

 

Setting down her book, Faith made her way to Willow and Tara, both engrossed in volumes upon volumes of books. "Hey, Blondie," she whispered. "Could I have a word with ya?" She nodded towards the staircase leading to the basement.

 

Tara nodded and gazed momentarily at Willow before getting up and following the brunette. "Hey, Faith."

 

"Got a few questions." The Slayer took a seat on the bottom step and gestured for the witch to follow suit.

 

"Okay."

 

"Why'd I get stuck with the fucked up situation?"

 

Silence, a befuddled expression – she tried again. "Why wasn't I affected by Red's spell? All the other Slayers felt it, but I just stood there confused as hell. Why?"

 

"It was magick c-contact," Tara explained. "You weren't in contact with any great magicks recently. Th-the Slayers got their powers, Buffy was r-raised from the dead, Dawn  _is_  magick –"

 

" – So I'm special, huh"? Faith crossed her arms and smirked, leaning back. "Not bad…" She shook her head and turned back to the blonde. "But that's not why I pulled you away from Red. I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

 

"What is it?"

 

"You're really gonna sacrifice yourself for her, aren't ya…"

 

Tara crossed her arms defiantly, "I love Willow. I won't let her go to hell. I won' – "

 

"As smart as they say you are, Blondie, sometimes, you can be pretty fucking dumb."

 

"W-what?"

 

"She's not happy when you're not with her." Faith tried to communicate her point across without pinning the larger blonde up against the wall like her gut instinct told her to do. "And you aren't either. I'm pretty damn sure you weren't too happy in heaven all alone. Do you think she'd be?"

 

"I wasn't in heav – "

 

"That's not the friggin' point, Blondie! You two  _belong_  together. Anyone could see that she would follow you to the ends of the earth and back if that meant she could be with you. As long she's with you…Red's happy."

 

Tara nodded. She knew that what Faith was saying was true. She hadn't been happy without Willow. When they broke up, Tara had felt so…incomplete; like there was this big gaping hole that kept growing larger and larger. It was just that she couldn't let Willow suffer. Hell…it was eternal suffering. If Willow were to go, Tara would take her place in a heartbeat – which was what she had been planning to do. Better her than her love, right?

 

But she knew that if they were separated again – and this time, forever – there would be unbearable pain in store the both of them…was it worth it to save her love? Was her unhappiness a fair exchange for guaranteeing her a place in heaven? Alone? Would Tara be strong enough? It was eternity…alone, in Hell.

 

"What'cha doing?" Strong arms wrapped themselves around Tara's waist and Willow's red mane came into view as she casually draped herself over her lover's back. There was noticeable tension in her body as she did it, but that feeling of apprehension was overridden by her love for the woman she was holding. A quick kiss was dropped on the sliver of exposed neck above Tara's turtleneck.

 

Tara didn't answer. Instead her hands moved to cover Willow's, and she twisted her neck around so that she could rest her nose in the nook of Willow's neck. The redhead's arms tightened and she sighed contentedly as she sat down directly behind Tara.

 

Faith smirked again as she watched the witches. They were oblivious to everything but each other. Silently, she climbed the stairs and returned to the study. With everything being so hectic lately, these moments were precious.

 

"I love you," Tara breathed, "so very much."

 

"I'd never doubt it," Willow replied, caressing the blonde's slender fingers.

 

Tara looked upwards, gazing lovingly into green eyes. There was a spark within those pools, a spark of undying love and care. Her hand reached up to lightly caress the smooth pale skin of her lover's cheek, fingering fiery locks. Slowly, eyelids fluttered closed and anticipating lips drew together.

 

For so long, this had been withheld from them. Always, more passionate expressions of love were used now – never the simple kiss, the innocent touch. Mental fireworks abounded as they went back to the beginning, the renewal, the first. Those earliest caresses and kisses, trembling lips upon trembling lips – the purest feeling of love – no movement, just that single whisper of a touch, that one connection. It was simplicity; it was bliss.

 

A shout of triumph sounded from above, and the witches reluctantly pulled away from each other. They were loathe to lose this rare moment of quiet. "Let's go," whispered Tara, taking Willow's hand in hers and squeezing it assuredly.

 

Xander stood in the study, fist and book raised in the air, victory written on his face. "Yes!" He shouted goofily. "I found it. I, co-founder of the "I Hate Research" club, have found it. Ha. Go me."

 

A dazzling smile adorned Willow's face as she rushed to hug her best friend. Perhaps the loophole had been found – hope glimmered in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

 

"Hold your horsies, Will," Buffy pointed out. "We haven't seen the book yet. Xander, have you looked through it?"

 

"Observe." The carpenter gestured grandly at the book's cover. "I'd bet me a shiny nickel that that's Hades and two witches!"

 

"It may well be," Giles confirmed, adjusting his glasses. He smoothly filched the book from Xander's hand and began to read aloud:

 

_The End of Hades_

_Specially-abridged storybook version of the Prophecy of the Two Witches._

 

_Once upon a time, there was only heaven. Now, heaven was not a nice place. Both the good souls and the bad souls lived there. The Goddess made the Powers That Be watch over heaven as a reward for being her favourites, but they did not like their job. They didn't want to live with the bad souls, so they created a new place for the bad souls. They called that place Hell. Now, heaven was only for the good souls._

 

_But there was no one to make sure the bad souls weren't escaping, so the Powers That Be took their most trusted servant, Hadramades, and gave him the job of ruling Hell – "_

 

"That's so mean!" Dawn interjected. "I mean, Hadramades was good, so they send him to watch Hell?"

 

"Maybe he got some hot dominatrix chicks to keep him company." Willow tried to joke, but the humour was completely lost in the seriousness of the group. "Sorry," she whispered.

 

"Erm." Giles gulped visibly before continuing. "There – there's a picture of his departure here." He turned the book around so that the others could see.

 

"That's so mean!" Andrew wailed. "They sent him off alone? Did they even realize how lonely he would be? It's lonely being evil, you know…"

 

Coughing, Giles continued:

 

_Over time, Hadramades changed. No longer was he handsome and good, but a gnarled, evil demon. He became like his charges. He hated his job, but most of all, he hated the more fortunate servants of the Powers That Be. He gathered the souls of Hell and unleashed them on Heaven in his anger, and easily won. Then he had a choice – the Powers That Be were at his mercy. In a moment of humanity, Hades, as he had come to be known, spared them. Instead, he took his revenge on their most beloved – the Two Witches. He demanded their souls in payment. The Powers That Be agreed reluctantly, but the witches did not seem to care. They were happy as long as they were together._

 

Willow squeezed Tara's hand.

 

_Hades wanted this kind of love. He was jealous and he did not want the witches to be happy. He told the witches that he wanted one to kill the other. That way, one would have committed a grievous crime, condemning her soul to Hell while the other would merely stay in Heaven. They would be unhappy forever._

 

_Grimly, the witches decided, and it was done. Once in Hell, the witch was given a choice. She could work for Hades and be reunited with her love when Hades defeated the Goddess, or she could go directly to the deepest level of Hell, alone forever. Blinded by love, the witch chose to work for Hades._

 

_This cycle continued for thousands of years as the pair was reincarnated. Slowly, Hades' army grew, until he was almost powerful enough to defeat the Goddess._

 

_But one day, two witches fought back. They were not the first to do so, and they risked their souls both being lost to Hades. However, they were determined to be together. They wanted to be together so badly that Hades could not separate them. Their love was stronger than Hades' hate, and they cast him back into Hell, freeing the souls of all the witches before them. These witches were able to have one last goodbye to their soulmates before passing on._

 

The room was silent as Giles solemnly closed the book. The severity of the prophecy had not been lost on them – this was do or die. Again. It was another impending apocalypse that they would have to stop.

 

"When the time comes that a soulful vampire shall fight alongside the Slayers, then shall the black witch call the white witch from the fields of eternal bliss to bring about the closing of the circle of good and evil. Many shall fall to make way for the white witch, and although she does not will it, the two must fight, or so perish, with the earth beside them," Robin blurted out. His eyes were glazed over, and they stared off into space.

 

"The final prophecy," Giles exclaimed in surprise. "Very few know of it in this dimension."

 

"When I was younger, my mother whispered that to me every night as I went to sleep." Robin repeated the prophecy again. It flowed smoothly out of his mouth, as though the saying of the prophecy was his reason for being. "It was passed down to her from her father and from his father before him." It was if he were in a trance, with those of long ago using him as a vessel through which to communicate. "When the time comes that a soulful vampire shall fight alongside the Slayers, then shall the black witch call the white witch from the fields of eternal bliss to bring about the closing of the circle of good and evil. Many shall fall to make way for the white witch, and although she does not will it, the two must fight, or so perish, with the earth beside them." Suddenly, he shook his head, and his eyes returned to their normal hue. "Whoa," he breathed out. "What just happened?"

 

"It seems that the Power That Be planned for you to be their messenger, Robin," Wesley observed helpfully.

 

"And it means that you," Giles bowed his head, "you are the last."

 

Once more, silence filled the room. It was a heavy silence, one that pressed down on every occupant like a weight slowly crushing them. They were waiting, waiting for the response of the two that held everything – their lives, the rest of the world – in their next words.

 

"I won't let you do it," Willow whispered. "I won't let you, Tara!"

 

Tara turned away.  _The two must fight…_ the words echoed in her mind and soul.  _The two must fight, or so perish, with the earth beside them._  It was their time. They had to fight him – and they would win. "We'll fight," she murmured. "We'll fight him – together." Gathering confidence she looked up, her eyes traveling to her left, where her lover sat anxiously in waiting. She squeezed Willow's hand and smiled, completely aware of just what her words meant. They were very likely going to die. Would it be worth it, doing the "right" thing? The brilliant grin on the redhead's face dispelled all her worries as they nodded simultaneously.

 

"Alright then," Buffy smiled tightly. "Let's get to work."

 

The Scoobie Gang and Angel Inc. nodded, getting back to work.

 

 

* * *

 

"Awaken, my servant."

 

Kennedy moaned. Her wounds may have been self-inflicted, but they still hurt like a bitch. Sometimes, this just wasn't worth it – so many had already been sacrificed to her cause. Was she ready for two more on her conscience? It hadn't been so hard before, leading fellow witches to eternity in Hell, but then again, she'd never had this type of connection with her victims. Willow was…one of a kind. Kennedy's character wasn't supposed to be likable, but somehow, Willow had seen past her tough façade and touched her. As much as she tried, she couldn't hate her.

 

And Tara – what was her deal? How could someone be so kind? Her caring aura reminded Kennedy so much of Julia. All this; all this for Julia. All this so that they could be reunited…in Hell. She was prepared to give the world to Hades in her desperation to see her, to touch her, to feel her…but still her sense of good-will tore at her. Every soul she took for Hades struck at her, like a knife slashing into the same wound over and over again – an unbearable guilt that followed her eternally. As hard she tried, she couldn't shake it. Eventually, she had learned to ignore it. Julia. Julia. Julia. Her goal was all that mattered. Her labour would bear her the fruit of being with her love forever. She didn't care if everybody else had to suffer…she told herself. But she did. She  _did_  care.

 

"Master, is there no other way? Are you sure that they are the ones?"

 

"They are the last," Hades stated. "They have the power to defeat me."

 

"But how can you tell? How can you be sure tha – "

 

"It is your job to ensure my victory, Kennedy. You must break apart their love. Break their bond. Sow discord and resentment like you have done so many times before. It is almost finished."

 

"But –"

 

"You will do as I say, servant!" Hades leaped onto the bed, his eyes alight with a blazing fury. He grabbed one of her broken arms and began to twist it to the left, slowly, painfully. "Is that clear, Kennedy?"

 

Hiding the pain from her face, she answered. "Y-yes, Master," Kennedy breathed. "It is."

 

"See that you do not fail me. We wouldn't want that conscience of yours to come into play now, would we?" Hades withdrew, and flashed a toothy white grin. "My will be done." A burst of flame, and he was gone.

 

Kennedy sighed. She was torn. Julia was close; so close that she could almost taste her, feel her…but Hades was right. Her sense of right and wrong – that had been for so long silent – whispered to her, urged her to do what was right, even if it meant that her dream had to be shattered. Why'd this have to happen now?


	12. Chapter 12

A few hours in, Dawn tapped Tara gently on the shoulder, gesturing to where Willow, who was visiting with Buffy in Dawn's chair, had sat. "You mind if I sit down?" she asked quietly.

 

"Sure, Willow's with Buffy." Tara smiled as Dawn took a seat and resting her head on the blonde's shoulder. They sat comfortably for a while, basking in long-absent warmth that had gone sorely amiss.

 

"I missed you, Tara," Dawn said eventually.

 

"I missed you too, Dawnie." Tara turned and kissed the brunette's forehead. "I missed you a lot."

 

"Don't lose," Dawn pleaded. "We just got you back, and…please stay."

 

"We don't plan to," Tara replied solemnly, "we don't plan to."

 

They each retreated into silence. It wasn't what they normally did together, this research. Back then, either Tara would do the studying and Dawn would be left to her boredom, or they would both kick back and relax as best they could and throw in some thumb-wrestling for the heck of it. Before, they'd been the outsiders.

 

But now, it was different. They were working side by side, and it was the most natural thing in the world to everyone else, but to them it was just another sign of how much had changed in the past year.

 

Dawnie…

 

Dawn had grown up.

 

 

* * *

 

"How're you doing, Will?" Buffy sipped on her coffee as they leafed through pages upon pages.

 

"N-not too bad. I mean, Tara's back – I'm a happy gal, couldn't ask for more…"

 

Buffy sighed. "Will, how are you  _really_  doing?"

 

Willow looked up from her reading, and stared at Buffy. Heaving a sigh, she put her current book down. "I'm scared," she almost-whispered. "I'm really scared, Buff. I don't know what's gonna happen to me and Tara if we lose, or-or what's gonna happen to you guys. I'm not so good with the Slayage a-and I can't help but not trust myself with the witch-y stuff anymore and I-I'm scared I'll let Tara down if – "

 

Buffy laid a comforting hand on the redhead's arm. "You'll do fine. Tara believes in you.  _I_  have faith in you too – Will, just do what you do best; love Tara."

 

Willow nodded, smiling hesitantly. "Yuh-huh," she gulped.

 

They got back to work and for the next half hour, there was silence between the two.

 

"Will?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"How's Tara doing about Kennedy?"

 

"Dunno," Willow mused thoughtfully, "I haven't really talked to Tara about that one."

 

"Be careful, Will. You know Ken…she's, she's violent."

 

A subtle fear crept into the redhead's features. "If Ken were to try to hurt Tara, sh-she'd never stand a chance! W-would Ken do that?"

 

"We'll keep an eye on her for you," Buffy assured, "but talk to Tara and make sure everything's fine and dandy."

 

"Mhmm," Willow frowned.

 

 

* * *

 

"How ya feeling?" Faith supported Robin as they made their way back to his room.

 

"Been better," Robin grunted, teeth gritted, "but slowly making my way back up the ladder of health."

 

"Good." Faith left the man leaning against the wall as she opened the door, went to the bed, and pulled back the covers. "In you get," she gestured.

 

"Yes, ma'am," Robin grinned as he did as he was told. Groaning, he leaned back onto the headboard and patted the chair beside his bed. Faith complied and sat down.

 

"So…" Robin smirked cheekily at his girlfriend.

 

"How can you be trying to joke?" Faith raised an eyebrow. "You might be dead tomorrow, for all we know."

 

"Heard of lightening the mood, Faith-y? I figured," Robin explained, "that if we're all going to die, then we might as well make the best of our time. I mean, I don't have anything to do. Why stress it?"

 

Faith ignored the pet name, instead storing it in her mind's box of verbal ammunition. "That wasn't how it was last apocalypse."

 

The black man's demeanor changed immediately. "Well, last apocalypse I wasn't stuck in bed, watching from the sidelines. I helped, last apocalypse." Robin punctuated 'helped' with his fist as it collided loudly with the bedside drawer.

 

"Hey," Faith grabbed his hand, "hey." She touched Robin's arm in both affection and restraint. "You're helping. You gave us that message from the Powers –"

 

"– not like I had a choice," he muttered.

 

"You're helping  _me_ , Robby." Faith's lips curled upwards for a moment as she loosed her well-kept bullet from the chamber that was her mouth. "Nobody's ever given a flying fuck of a chance to me before, and you have. A-and I think we're gonna get somewhere."

 

"Thanks." Robin squeezed her hand. He raised an eyebrow. "Robby?"

 

"R?" Faith offered.

 

"Robin."

 

"Fine." Faith shrugged, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back on her chair. "Let's see to that hand, huh?" She held it gently as she softly kissed each knuckle, then each fingertip. She sucked each digit into her mouth and swirled her tongue round and round, getting a low moan from Robin for her efforts. His head was leaned back, eyes closed, mouth hanging slightly open. She paused for a moment, realizing.

 

This wasn't Buffy – both a happy and sad awareness. Faith had finally moved on and found herself somebody who really cared for her. But she knew now that in giving herself, if only even a small part, to Robin, her complete love and longing for Buffy had come to an end. And she liked it.

 

"Faith." Robin's voice called her back to the world.

 

"What is it?" His tone was caring, yet not intruding.

 

"Nothing anymore," she smiled, leaning over and kissing him before joining him under the covers. "Just getting rid of some past issues."

 

"You sure you don't wanna get 'em out?" He stroked her hair. "I find that when I say stuff out loud, I let go better."

 

"I-I don't think I wanna let go just yet. Maybe someday," Faith snuggled into his chest, "but not now." Buffy had been a fantasy, and a nice fantasy too – but that was all she ever would be. And now that she was given the choice to choose between her fantasy and reality, the latter was looking a whole lot more favourable.

 

"Okay," Robin whispered, placing his hand over hers.

 

 

* * *

 

"Will…" Tara pleaded with her girlfriend to rest, but the redhead plowed on through her stack of volumes. "Willow?" No answer. "Sweetie, what is it?" She cupped Willow's cheek and forced the redhead to face her. "W-what's wrong?" Tara's fingers were wet with her girlfriend's tears.

 

Willow turned away, embarrassed. "I-it's nothing; just that time of the month. You know – mood swings, random emotional breakdowns, it's scientifically proven. I'm just shiny," she chuckled.

 

 _I know you well enough to know when you're lying, Sweetie._  Tara turned Willow's chair to the left and her own to the right so that they were facing each other. "And I know what's going on," she said, going out on a limb. She leaned in to kiss the redhead's cheek. "And it's okay. No matter what, I'll always be here," she whispered.

 

It was then something snapped inside Willow, and it all burst out. "Everything's happening so fast, and it's like one apocalypse after another, a-and now you're back – and I'm happy you're back, but how can you forgive me so quickly? I fucked up, but nobody seems to be thinking that. I used magick! Yeah, it was Hades and his "power" and "destiny" but I still gave in, didn't I? Everybody's tiptoeing around me like I'm a ticking time bomb, o-or like I'm special or something, but I'm not! I'm just an ordinary girl lucky enough to get to see her love again, b-but it's like I'm gonna lose you so soon. We don't know what's gonna happen after we fight Hades – are we gonna die? I don't wanna die! – Or even if we'll win.

 

"A-and I don't wanna lose you to another freak accident when this is all over. I want to be sure. I…I just wanna be with you forever." Throughout her rant, her composure had steadily deteriorated, and by now, she was openly sobbing. All the others were trying their best to look away, not wanting to cause Willow more embarrassment.

 

Tara didn't try to answer, but merely replied, "I love you," and kissed her girlfriend long and soft. "No matter what, we'll be together in the end."


	13. Chapter 13

Xander was just getting back with the takeout when Andrew let out a whoop of victory and heaved a book into the air. He wobbled under the weight of the volume that much resembled a picture album, stretching his arms out for only a moment before his strength gave out, plopping it and his arms none too gracefully onto the table.

 

"What is it?" Giles rushed over to the former Troika.

 

"It's a book," Andrew stated, chest puffed out proudly, "chronicling the outcome of each pair of witches throughout history." He flipped open the cover and turned to the first entry. "This one's missing a name, but it tells us exactly what happened."

 

As with Xander, Giles smoothly took the book as his own. He began to read:

 

_Julia and her beloved (her name has been lost) – they were the first, and the beloved killed Julia in order to save her love from the fires of hell._

 

_Laura and Wildra – Laura was marked by the Dark Lord and in order to save her love from the fires of hell, Wildra intervened and killed Laura, taking her place._

 

"According to this book, there was a pair every ten years." He stopped reading.

 

"The language…it's not very classical. A-are you sure it's not a fake?" asked Wesley.

 

"And how's this gonna help even if it  _is_  real?" Faith sneered, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall, an expression of residual disdain towards her former Watcher that dared him to answer her.

 

Wesley looked away.

 

Ignoring the pair, Giles flipped to the final entry. "Joanie Lewis." He looked up. "Can we find out if she is still alive?" He turned the book around, letting the others look at the picture of the most recent Marked.

 

"Suicide, poor witch," a soft voice said from the entrance to the study. Anya. Her dress and hair were mellowed down; even her carriage was different. There were still traces of the modern Anya left, but otherwise, this was Anyanka from a thousand years ago, before her corruption. "Hi. Oh!" she exclaimed in answer to the surprised words and looks of greeting she was receiving, "it was stupid, oh, and rude of me to come barging in like this, huh? I mean, there was no "We're having an orgy" sign or anything, but hey, who knows, right?"

 

When the response was just more silent confusion and perhaps some embarrassment, Anya cleared her throat. "Okay, onto business. I'm sorry, but the Powers didn't really give me the good news to deliver. Well, there isn't much good news. Just a bit – if you win, it's over, you win. Does that help?" Silence. "Nope. Alright then, first things first. You need to challenge Hades tomorrow as the sun sets. From that time to the time when the sun rises, you can slice and dice, he's vulnerable, don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know."

 

"Now I'll give you the spells you need to use. See, the Powers make it so easy for you! To challenge him, do the standard circle, and say in Latin, yes you'll have to translate that on your own, you do need to do your own work.  _We challenge you, keeper of hell. In the name of the heavens, we demand your audience._ " She stared at them. "Are you writing this down? I'm only repeating this once, you know!"

 

Startled, one, from Anya's appearance, and two, her extremely unusual behaviour, those who had the resources needed to record information did as she said, although only one person should have needed to.

 

"After that, you'll be transported to Hades and you'll need to say this spell. In Latin, of course.  _Our bond of love will banish you from this plane. Our love is strong. Our love will not die. Our love resists you._  Got that?" She looked around. "Okay then. One last thing. If you lose, Hades will have enough power to take over every known dimension."

 

"Well, that's all. Um…" Anya ran over to Tara and gave her an awkward hug. "I'm glad you're back, even though I can't be back with you," she whispered. She squeezed the witch tightly and kissed her on the cheek before withdrawing. "Goodbye, everyone." She waved, a conspicuously forced smile on her face, and turned to leave.

 

As she neared the doorway, she heard the footfalls of someone coming up behind her. "Anya." It was Xander, his arm subconsciously reaching towards her as his expression pleaded with her. "Stay. Please." He grabbed her arm and glanced back at the others, who immediately began to discuss the information they'd received. He pulled her into the hall. "Why can't you stay long enough to even say hi?"

 

"Because I've delivered my message, and that's all the Powers are letting me do." Anya sighed, her false cheeriness immediately giving way to a forlorn-ness that indicated her acceptance of her fate. "And don't you mean goodbye?" she asked sadly. "After this, I'm gone and I'm not coming back. My job in this dimension is done." She bit her lip and looked away. "But I don't want to say goodbye to you."

 

"Why'd you go and get yourself killed, An?" the carpenter queried. She could tell from his expression that he was angry, but understanding and…withdrawn. "We had so much ahead of us." Tears rolled down Xander's cheeks as he stroked Anya's cheek with the back of his hand.

 

"Did we? Maybe we did. We'll never know, will we. But that's life, right?" She leaned in and kissed her love softly on the lips. "Suck it up, big boy," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

 

"Not now, An." Xander smiled wearily, not missing his longtime partner's attempt at humour. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, but they kept coming. Imagine that – a grown man crying. He wasn't ashamed, especially in front of Anya. She'd seen it so many times, when life as a Slayerette became too much, or when Buffy had died, and when Willow… "Aw, c'mon, give your man a hug one last time then." He enveloped her in a bear hug, pushing those dark thoughts to the back of his mind. For later – not now, when the important things were happening.

 

His tight friendly grip gave way to a more tender hold as he caressed Anya's smooth back and kissed her forehead as he had done so many times, and now, for the last time.  _Make it count, wise guy_ , he told himself. "I love you."

 

"I love you too." Anya kissed his jaw and he angled his head downwards and then they were kissing fiercely, desperately, unwilling to let each other go, but still knowing that it was inevitable. Slowly, breathing hard, crying harder, they pulled back, arms still wrapped tightly around each other. "Goodbye," she whispered, slowly backing away, but still holding onto whatever part of him she could reach as she did. There was a hint of a smile on her face as she blew him a kiss moments after the contact between them was lost. "Love again," she added thoughtfully, head cocked to the side. "That's what I'm supposed to say, right?"

 

Tears streamed down Xander's cheeks as he smiled and nodded, raising a trembling hand in farewell.  _And so ends the next chapter in 'The Book of Xander'._  He blinked back the next flood of tears, trying to recover his emotional strength, and as he closed his eyes, she was gone in a peaceful silent wind. "Goodbye, An," he whispered. "See you soon." 

He wiped his cheeks on his sleeve and turned stiffly to walk back inside.

 

"I'm sorry." It was Fred, the double doors just closing behind her. She looked lost. "Am I intruding?"

 

Xander forced a smile and shook his head. "You came just on time, m'dear." He tucked his hand behind him and bowed formally, winking at her, determined to put on a strong front for the others until he came to terms with his love's departure. "Allow me to escort you to your room." He offered an arm.

 

Fred looked incredulous, if which he couldn't blame her, but she didn't question as she accepted his invitation, allowing Xander to lead her into the study.

 

The group looked up as they made their entrance, and Wesley immediately rose up to greet her. "How was the meeting?" he inquired.

 

"Boring. Paperwork, really." She raised her eyebrow as she took in the messy state of the study, books sprawled will-nilly throughout the normally organized room. "Y'all mind telling me what's going on here?"

 

And so they told her all that had happened in the last day since Fred had gone for her 24-hour meeting downtown as acting representative for Angel Inc. in place of Angel.

 

Fred took it in well, nodding occasionally and asking for more detailed explanation now and then.

 

"So tomorrow sunset, Willow and Tara need to challenge Hades in order to be able to cast him back to wherever he belongs…or what?" she asked.

 

"I think that he'd no longer be vulnerable and send his servants to torment us until we acted," answered Willow.

 

"And if you lose? I'm sorry, but I need to ask this." Fred's lips curled down slightly as emotions of both sympathy and curiosity flashed across her face.

 

"Hades will take over every imaginable dimension with the power drawn from all the souls of witches he has gorged himself on throughout time," Angel declared quietly, arms crossed across his chest, his expression betraying nothing.

 

"So we've gotta win this," Dawn concluded.

 

"No." Willow looked over at Tara and reached for her hand under the table, trying to reassure both of them. "This one's  _our_  battle, Dawnie." She squeezed her love's hand.

 

Slowly, one by one, they left the room – Willow and Tara last. There was nothing anybody could do but hope and pray that tomorrow's battle would be won, and that life would still continue on in the aftermath.

 

 

* * *

 

Willow poked playfully at Tara's foot from where she lay at the foot of the bed. The blonde was settled on top of the covers, feet over the pillows, head beside Willow. A stray lock of hair dangled annoyingly in front of her eyes, Tara's well-placed blows doing nothing to tame it. Willow tenderly brushed it back, placing it behind her ear. "Wanna take a break?" she whispered.

 

Tara looked up and smiled, but shook her head. "Just a few more minutes, Sweetie. I-I need to double-check the translations."

 

Tara had always been the stronger of the two when it came to translations. Willow lacked the patience to go over the phrases again and again checking for error, being more likely to just give it the old run-through and hope for the best. After their first experimental Latin spells together, resulting in a mini-battle against a particularly icky army of tadpoles, Tara had wisely decided to take the task of translating into her own hands, Willow gladly obliging.

 

Latin was a beautiful language and Tara had always reveled in the way at sounded when read properly. Willow knew this, and during the blonde's recovery from Glory's attack, had, as the superior reader between the two of them, read Tara Latin poetry to calm her.

 

"Okay." Tara put down her pen and closed her notebook carefully. "All done." She set it done on the floor beside the bed before swinging her body around so that she and Willow were side by side. "Y-you know, about before…" She lay on her side, concern evident on her face. "Are you alright?"

 

"I-I guess I'm just nervous." Willow frowned. She reached out and stroked Tara's cheek. "I don't wanna lose you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

 

Tara kissed the redhead's forehead, gathering her into her arms. "You won't lose me," she assured. The blonde felt like it was her job, her mission, to be strong for Willow, even though at the moment, she herself was pensive and scared by the uncertainty of their future. What Willow had said was true – what would happen if they won? Would they die anyway, their bodies physically dead from the force and power of the spell? That would be typical of the Powers – sacrificing everything for their own safety.

 

"You're pulling away from me, baby." Willow pulled her head up from where it was resting on Tara's shoulder. "I can feel you in your mind." Her eyes housed pain and remorse. "A-are you mad at me? For the magick? I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I just wanted to see you again, a-and I'm sure there must have been some other way for me to bring you back." She was breathing heavily, tears streaming down her cheeks as they seemed to be doing very often nowadays.

 

"Willow." Tara whispered her name, the inflection of her voice telling the redhead to look at her. "You were forgiven before you did the spell. And y-your shamefulness at having done it, it shows that you know it was wrong. That is all that anyone who loves you would ask of you." She smoothed back the fiery locks of her love. "We've just gotta be strong tomorrow, and then, either way, it's over for us."

 

"No." Willow sat up. "It'll never be over for us…" She shook her head vigorously. "After this, there'll be the next Big Bad and then the one after that…no. This'll keep on happening to us as long as we stay here." She looked back up at Tara, emotionally naked. Guilt and love shone brightly, as the blonde saw her love torn between loyalty to her best friend and a true happy ending. But in the end, Tara, as always, won out, whether or not Tara wanted to. "I've been thinking about this ever since you got back. I-I have a second chance with you, or a third chance, if you count the chance we started, and I don't wanna waste it."

 

"I want us to leave," Willow concluded, "a-and start a new life on our own, somewhere away from all this." She kissed Tara's lips tenderly. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. C-can we do that? Is that too much to ask?" She feared that she had upset Tara with her request to leave their friends behind in favour of a safer life together, but the blonde didn't seem angry with her.

 

"It isn't, Will." Tara shook her head. "I think we need to leave too. Y-you know you still have a lot to learn about magick, and away from needing to use it so much every day, you'll be able to learn safely from the beginning. We can start a family, and r-raise our children far away from vampires, d-demons, and danger. I want that with you too. And I-I think that it's time for us to start our family."

 

Happily, Willow grinned and pulled her blonde towards her, kissing her. She ran her hand through golden locks and down warm skin, caressing Tara's back. "And I thought you would be mad at me," Willow chuckled against Tara's lips.

 

"Never," answered Tara, breathing hard. She let out a low moan as Willow bit her lower lip then soothed it with cool saliva and warm tongue, pulling at the buttons on the redhead's button-down shirt.

 

And that would have been that if Willow hadn't remembered something important that she'd told Buffy she would ask Tara about. Reluctantly, she pulled back and rolled off the blonde. "I've gotta talk to you about something."

 

Tara was confused as to what could be so important that they needed to talk about it while they were both in such an aroused state. She could feel the hot wetness in her panties, with every little instant of contact between the material and her opening sending tingles up her spine. "Can't it wait?" She leaned back on her elbows.

 

"I need to talk to you about Kennedy," Willow stated evenly. She was afraid, even though she knew Tara understood. "My relationship with her started off as just a rebound. A-and I've been thinking about this, and I've come to realize that I am attracted to Kennedy in some way. I could never love her like I love you, but I do care for her. I-I need to know that you're okay with that." She searched Tara's face for any sign of despair.

 

Instead, Tara smiled.

 

"You needed to move on, and you found someone to help you along that path." Tara took Willow's hand in hers. "It would be my worst nightmare to see you give up your future because of the past. Kennedy gave you that option."

 

"I'm glad that Kennedy came in with the flirt-age then, but now, I'm so happy with you, and it's like I've left her behind and broken her heart."

 

"I don't think it was you. Her pain goes so much deeper than that. Can you feel it? There's such a…a sadness in her. I want to help her, but if the only way to help her is your being her girlfriend, I don't want you to help her. I-I don't wanna be selfish b – "

 

"You're not being selfish, baby." Willow lifted the hand that was enclosed in Tara's to her lips and kissed the blonde's fingertips. "You're the only one I want."

 

"She's nice," Tara said thoughtfully. "Maybe when she gets past us, she'll open up. I want to know her better."

 

"You're amazing, Tara Maclay." Willow swept her up from the bed dramatically and dipped her across her knee before kissing her passionately. "I love you."

 

"Love  _you_." Tara licked at Willow's bottom lip with her tongue, requesting entrance, which Willow gladly gave.

 

The redhead lost her grip on Tara's back and let the blonde fall back onto the bed as she straddled her, never losing contact. Her hands roamed over the older woman's body, from hair to neck to breast to stomach to leg and back up again.

 

Tara acutely felt Willow's hands travel her body, the heat from her lover's fingers and palms imprinting invisible bonds of love on her as she gave herself over to Willow's expert touch. Then Tara couldn't stand it any longer and she was on top, tenderly licking and biting a trail down Willow's body as her nimble hands cleared away any clothing in her way.

 

Willow groaned as she felt Tara's mouth move over her, leaving a hot sticky trail of bliss behind. She let out a low moan as she felt the saliva cooling, tickling her skin. She arched her back, giving Tara more access to whatever the frilly heck she wanted as long as she – oh, Goddess, oh, Goddess…

 

"Come up here," Willow commanded, her breath coming in short gasps as she took off whatever clothing still left on her, Tara doing the same. The beauty of the blonde's naked body never ceased to amaze her. She was like a Goddess – young and nubile, perfect in Willow's eyes. Reverently, she touched Tara's breasts, the nipples forming hard peaks against her palms. "So…beautiful," she breathed, kissing them one at a time.

 

Tara felt Willow's eyes go up and down her naked body. It had taken her so long to become proud of her body, to discover that she was not an embarrassment. Willow made her feel like a treasure, a dessert that was finger-lickin' good right down to the last drop, so she said. Still, Tara found it hard to keep from blushing when Willow stared at her with such unabashed passion and love. And as Willow kissed her breasts, she sighed, knowing that being loved like this was so much better than heaven could ever be.

 

Tara wrapped her arms around Willow's neck, her fingers caressing hot skin where it met fiery hair. Her expression was one of utmost adoration as she pulled Willow closer and closer until their lips were just touching, recreating the afternoon moment that had been disrupted by Xander.

 

Willow couldn't keep her eyes from watering as she read the unspoken words in Tara's gaze. And as the blonde brought them closer and closer together, she placed her hands on Tara's hips, stroking the bone and skin with butterfly touches.

 

Their lips met and it became a struggle to hold the rising passion at bay. They knelt on the bed, barely moving against each other as the kiss went on. Slowly but surely their bodies came together until they lay side by side.

 

Then the explosion came – having been forcibly quashed, it came out in an unstoppable wave, spreading and spreading to the tips of their toes and fingers, rewarding them for their patience. Hands roamed freely, giving and taking pleasure. Tongues sought sweetness and found.

 

 _I love you._  It was whispered, moaned, grunted, breathed, mouthed, tasted, felt – Willow and Tara demonstrated their love to each other frantically, slowly…their passion built and waned, built and waned. It rose and fell like a tidal wave crashing onto sandy beaches. They loved each other well into the night before exhausted they fell asleep in each other's arms, dreaming of their life together.

 

 

* * *

 

"…so Red and Blondie are gonna save the world tomorrow, pretty much," Faith summed up, having related the whole of the day's events to Robin as they lay cuddled in his room.

 

"Gonna try to, right?" Robin corrected, stroking Faith's hair.

 

"Uh huh," answered Faith, smiling contentedly as she felt the black man's firm hands.

 

"You helping?" he asked.

 

"Not really. Just gonna be on the lookout for anything stupid enough to try to stop the spell." She frowned – she'd wanted to do more, but having never really done any research, she hadn't been able to help out as much as she wanted to. Instead, she was reduced to sentry duty – but hey, so was everyone else during the actual battle.

 

"Hey." Robin noticed her discontented look and tried to console her. "You're still doing more than me."

 

"Would you stop it with that already?" Faith slapped his arm playfully, but frowned when he winced.

 

"Slayer strength, Faith." Robin rubbed his arm. "That's gonna bruise."

 

She shrugged. "Won't show through your complexion." She kissed the spot seductively – well, as seductively as kissing a bruise could be. "This might though." Faith moved up to Robin's neck, licking and biting along his jaw line, earning low moans from her lover.

 

"Get up here." Robin didn't give Faith a chance to react as he pulled the Slayer up to him and kissed her hard on the lips.

 

If she had wanted to, she could have easily resisted, but she allowed herself to be led instead of leading as she always did. It was different – a nice different. Robin was a good kisser, and she felt no regret in relinquishing the lead under his expert tongue. His hands traveled Faith's back, adding pressure to just the right spots.

 

She ran her hands down his muscled chest and abdomen before bunching up his shirt in her hands and lifting it up and over his head as Robin did the same to her. He flipped her over and began kissing her neck, returning her the favour she had done him moments before.

 

Faith straddled him as they returned to lip-lock, and as she pressed herself close to his body, Robin unclasped her bra and tossed it to the floor. She let her breasts drag across his stomach before, with a sudden tenderness, she bathed his wrapped wound with her glorious attention of mouth and hand.

 

Robin moaned more audibly this time, then even louder as she pulled down his boxers, freeing his bulging member. She pleasured him, but didn't let him go over the edge as she toyed with him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and lifted her up by the waist before beginning to undo her jeans.

 

She grinned. "Enough play for ya?" Her hands quickly finished the job for him and she pulled them down.

 

All Robin could do was nod, watching transfixed as she seductively pulled down her panties.  _Damn, she's good at this,_ he thought.  _And she looks good while doing it._ She paused, reaching down to her pants to grab a condom and unwrapping it, placed it onto his member. Slowly, at a torturing pace she lowered herself onto him and began to move above him.

 

The rhythm was slow at first, but it sped up steadily. They moved in synch, grunting and moaning, voicing whispers and near-screams of 'faster' or 'harder' until at last they crashed over the edge together. They stayed there for a long time, both using whatever they could to prolong their stay to the point of exhaustion.

 

"I…love…you," Robin panted as his hips finally came back to rest on the bed.

 

Faith did a mental jump as he said it.

 

He…loved her? Nobody had ever said those words to her, and she had never said that to anyone either. It had always been fuck and run for her…until Buffy. Now there hadn't been a whole lot of fucking, but definitely plenty of running. Yeah, she'd said it was over in her mind, but in her heart, was it really? Not yet. Faith would never really be over Buffy until she moved to another country, settled down with a family, God forbid, and even then it wouldn't be a sure thing. She could eventually love another, but her heart would always belong to her fellow Slayer.

 

What was she supposed to say to him? 'I think I might love you someday, but right now I'm in love with Buffy Summers, but that was nice'? That was just rude! It was too early in this first real relationship of hers for her to be able to say something like that.

 

Robin must have noticed, his eyes showing his sudden worry. "Hey, I realize I shouldn't have said that…" He tried to cup her cheek, but Faith pulled away awkwardly. "What's wrong?"

 

"I-I," she stuttered out, unsure of absolutely everything. "Don't fucking touch me, you jerk!" She felt closed in, caged. She tried to pull away. Her body told her to run, and hell, that was what she wanted to do, but her heart and mind held her back. If she left now, there would be no turning back.

 

Robin let her move away, but wouldn't let go of her completely. The harshness of her words glanced off of him. He had expected this, in a way. He berated himself for slipping up. Faith was giving him a chance and he was doing a shit poor job in using it. He had to take it slow. Yeah, he wanted to tell her he felt for her, hell, how he had been attracted to her from the moment they'd met. Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn't, but he had always gone with the moment, and at that moment, his gut had been telling him to do something, and he had to his current chagrin. "I'm sorry," he offered. "Faith, you don't have to tell me what's wrong. You don't have to sleep in here if you don't want to, but please, don't shut me out. You said you would give me a chance, and maybe me saying what I did counts as the end of that chance, but hey – let's give this a shot, huh? I'm sorry if I scared you." He stroked her cheek. This time, she didn't pull away. "That's the last thing I meant to do."

 

Faith allowed herself to be consoled, her heart, which had been frantically beating, slowing back down to an even pace as she felt Robin draw her to himself. He meant those words – he wasn't just using her. He cared for her, and she admitted to herself that she cared for him just as much. It would take getting used to, but she could do that. All she needed was time, and it seemed that Robin was willing to give her that.

 

 

* * *

 

With nothing left to do but wait, Xander, Andrew, Buffy, and Dawn chose on their part to veg out in front of the television. After flipping through Cordelia's ample selection of movies – and at Xander's bidding, having a moment of silence for the comatose ex-Scoobie – they selected a group favourite.  _Willow_.

 

Having been Willow's favourite movie due to her namesake, her insistence that they watch it at every sleepover throughout high school had eventually made it a Scoobie Classic. So fittingly, that was what they decided to watch, in memory of happier times.

 

However, only Andrew seemed to really be into it, letting out whoops as Shorsha, or 'The Hottie' as he had dubbed her, kicked butt at every turn. Xander joined in half-heartedly every now and then, not wanting to let his inner monsters ruin what could well be their last night together.

 

Buffy and Dawn sat off to the side, lost in silent reverie. It had been a harsh past few days for the two of them, and now that there was a lull in the action, the pain was finally being felt.

 

Dawn, for her seventeen years, was taking this well, or so she told herself. She had lost a mother and a sister in the last three years and then impossibly found her sister again right where she'd lost her. Then Tara and Willow, the most substantial and stable parts of her life, had proven her wrong with Tara moving out and Willow spiraling down the path of darkness. It had been a momentary reprieve when she had found them again just for it to be taken away – permanently. Now, in another impossibility, all was right again in the world, but so wrong all at the same time. Tara was back, but because of that, so much was at stake. There was only so much a girl could take!

 

She couldn't help but wonder whether or not this was just a small lapse from the pain that was her life. Tomorrow brought uncertainty for the future, for even the existence of the future. It was make it or break it, and like always, there was nothing she could do. She was the helpless, good-for-almost-nothing teenager.

 

And now, a teenager without a home.

 

Sunnydale was gone. The only home Dawn had known for all her life was nothing but a pit of rubble. Even with the most optimistic perspective she couldn't muster a bright light at the end of the tunnel for herself.  _Where do we go from here?_  Sweet's final hurrah rang in her ears. Where would she go? Where would Buffy go? Would the Scoobies split up or stay together at the end of this? Was there even a point in asking this with the fate of the world resting on the two witches she loved most in the world? Her mind was a flurry of questions that just couldn't be answered.

 

Buffy glanced over at her sister, worried. But she didn't know what to do to comfort her. Her own problems loomed in front of her and it didn't feel right to try to help someone else when her own demons haunted her. Then again, since when did her feelings matter? Being the Slayer meant being selfless night after night, sacrificing social life and all the perks of the average teenager in exchange for being the hero nobody could ever know about. Any lapse in that mentality cost an innocent life. Seven years of her nocturnal white-knight-to-the-rescue act had taught her that.

 

She could put all that safely behind her now if she so wished to do. There were others who could take her place and she could live her life like she wanted to – normally. Buffy Summers would retreat into the crowd, into the background, into obscurity and let go of her responsibilities. She was going to stay around and help Angel, that was for sure, but in a lesser role. Angel would take her in, and she would work for him part time – or as part time as part time could get in fighting evil.

 

And who knew what would happen, given time. Buffy and Angel would never be able to have a conventional relationship or even a satisfying one in the sexual aspect…but they still had something. The spark was still there, just waiting to be fanned into a flame once more.

 

But thinking about that just led to guilt concerning all things Spike. There was no doubt that he had seen them kiss mere days ago, but he'd ignored it. He loved her, and he was a hero. He sacrificed himself for the world. Buffy wondered what the old Spike would have thought of that. He would have called himself a nancy.  _Gone all soft_ , he would have said.

 

She cared about him. She would admit that. First, he was her enemy, then, the recipient of all her frustration. And in time, he had become her lover…of nearly two years. She didn't love him, but there was something there too. Somehow, she just couldn't let it go. He was gone, burnt to ash, nothing anyone could do about it. She was supposed to move on now, right? Buffy the Vampire Slayer couldn't do that just yet.

 

She glanced over at Dawn, who sat beside her silent and sullen, gazing uninterestedly at the screen. Like many times before, Buffy put her arm around her sister, as if to protect her from everything. She knew that wasn't possible even with her all her ability, but she sure could try.

 

It seemed to be working though. Dawn responded, snuggling in closer to her official guardian, a faint smile gracing her features. They didn't do this too often, sibling rivalry and conflicts having gotten in the way earlier years. Not until the rude awakening when their mother had been so cruelly taken away from them had things changed between them. All they had to call family were each other, and they needed to treasure that.

 

And Buffy had done that. Their bond of sisterhood had given her the willpower to jump off the tower and what would have, and should have been the end of her life on earth. Dawn had been angry at Buffy for a long time for leaving her alone in the world, but in time, she had come to realize that it was because her sister loved her and not for any other reason that she had given her life. And it had made their relationship even stronger.

 

"What's gonna happen now?" Dawn asked.

 

It was a simple question, but it presented all sorts of problems for Buffy. Besides staying in LA, she honestly didn't know what was going to happen. So she told Dawn what she knew. "I'm going to stay here with Angel. Help out around the hotel, y'know?"

 

"Sounds cool," Dawn said quietly. She nodded.

 

Buffy waited for her to say more but nothing came. Great. One of the few times they needed to have serious talk and it's a one-way conversation. She rolled her eyes. It wasn't really anything big, but they needed to see this one through. "You have to stay with me until you graduate. You know that, right? I'm your big sis and official guardian."

 

It was Dawn's turn to roll her eyes at Buffy's 'I'm your guardian and sister' line. "All hail Big Sister Buffy." She mock-groveled in front of the Slayer. Their relationship was friendly and comfortable as well as a good mood-lifter at times.

 

Buffy laughed and pinned Dawn down, expertly tickling the helpless girl as she begged, howled, and wailed for reprieve. "Nuh uh, Dawnie," Buffy teased, pressing harder in attack.

 

"You're missing the best part," Andrew interrupted. Seeing that they were lost, he sighed and explained. "They've all been turned into pigs and Willow needs to use the wand and turn them back into humans. Are you even watching? You chose the movie…"

 

"Yeah, yeah, Andrew, we're watching," said Buffy, sitting back down on the couch and straightening her rumpled shirt. She cast a side-long glance at Dawn and they burst into laughter.

 

Andrew frowned and gave Xander a withering look for not helping him. The carpenter shrugged. "What? You wanna stop two hotties from tickling each other?" He was met with disapproving glances from the sisters. "In the sisterly sorta way!" he back-pedaled.

 

"Fine, fine, do what you want," Andrew grumbled, settling back down in front of the television. "But you're missing out."

 

"Okay, Andrew," Buffy sing-songed.

 

Dawn leaned her head on Buffy's shoulder, settling back into their former position. "Since when did you get so huggy?" Buffy asked.

 

"Since now," Dawn shrugged.

 

"You still haven't answered my question."

 

"You never asked me a question."

 

"Did too."

 

"Did not."

 

"Did too."

 

And it would have made for another tickle fight if Buffy decided to spare Andrew the stress of having to break them up again. "So I didn't then."

 

"Uh huh." Dawn smiled smugly, crossing her arms.

 

"So are you okay with staying here in LA with me?" Buffy asked.

 

There was a tense pause before Dawn nodded. "I just wanna be where you are."

 

They snuggled down to watch the rest of the movie contentedly.

 

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere in the study was all business. They sipped at bourbon, the sweet tang keeping them on their toes as they discussed the future of Slayerdom.

 

"We went to Phoenix and ran the streets there for two days or so." Angel and Wesley were relaying the results of their mission to Giles. "There were a few reports of vandalism and street girls with super-human strength that were terrorizing the community," said the vampire.

 

"We got in touch with the closest contact from what's left of the Watchers' Council – David Mitchell. He's agreed to try to get things under control there and continue searching for new Slayers," Wesley added.

 

"That's good," said Giles. "Have you, are you planning to make any other trips to locate others?"

 

"We were hoping you could help us there," Angel explained. "Dispatch some of the new Slayers to potential hotspots and they can keep an eye and ear out for news. Right now, Gunn's taken to the streets here in LA to do just that. He'll be reporting back in a few days with what he has."

 

"You're right." Giles wiped his glasses and replaced them. "It's essential that we locate these Slayers before they misuse their gift. They need to be trained to do good, not evil. A rogue Slayer, as we have all seen, is very dangerous. However, due to recent events, there's a considerable lack of capable Slayers around."

 

"We're hoping Gunn will solve that problem," said Wesley. "He's been around for a while and has some influence in the underground. When he gets back, God-willing, he will bring others with him that are ready to be trained here."

 

"Are you suggesting that we begin to train Slayers here in the Imperion?" Giles asked in disbelief.

 

"I don't see why not," Angel countered. "We have the facilities, we have the staff – all we need are students."

 

"It does seem very plausible," Giles mused.

 

"You do realize that we are basing all of our plans on hope?" Wesley asked realistically.

 

They paused, thinking that through. Slowly, they all made eye contact and nodded, having no choice but to accept what they had available to them. Angel picked up the flask of bourbon and refilled each of the glasses. He raised his own. "Here's to hoping."

 

The other two raised their cups in agreement. To hope – hope of victory tomorrow, hope of success in the field. There was nothing to do. All they could do was wait.

 

 

* * *

 

The movie was over. Dawn and Andrew retreated to their rooms, leaving Xander and Buffy sitting side by side on the couch. They had both lost someone special to them, and they felt alone in their thoughts. But they could relate to each other, and that was why they sat there together.

 

Xander's pain was obvious, his final goodbye to Anya far from what he had imagined it to be. It had been too short, too bitter, too accepting. He should have held onto her, not let her go. They were just beginning to mend their relationship when that Bringer brought down his blade and ended whatever hope was there. 

Buffy's demeanor was next to emotionless. She stared blankly ahead of her, not being able to voice any of her thoughts to anybody, no matter how close. She wasn't ready, and she feared that what she needed to say about her relationship with Spike would drive Xander, everyone away. She knew he didn't approve of the vampire, and a few years ago, she wouldn't have either. But things had changed – everyone had changed.

 

She wouldn't talk even if she could. Her job tonight was to comfort her friend. Xander needed to let it out. His bitterness radiated from him in unrelenting waves and Buffy worried that it would lead to a bottomless pit of depression for her best friend.

 

"You need to let it out," she said. "It hurts. I know it does. I'm hurting too."

 

"I know," Xander answered. "It's hard though."

 

"Love's never easy," Buffy pointed out. "We all know that. There's never the fairy tale ending in real life. We can't expect that everything will be alright in the end, because almost all of the time, it isn't."

 

"Why do I need to know this?" Xander cut in. "I understand. I lost whatever real shot I had at a lifetime of happiness with Anya when I left her at the altar, and it took me almost a year for her to begin to open up again. I mean, what's this supposed to mean? Are the fates smiling cruelly down on me, cutting all my threads away one by one? It sure feels like that." He was crying again. The tears came proudly, proof of his feelings, proof of his humanity.

 

"When life gives you lemons you make lemonade, right?" Buffy wrapped her arms around Xander, letting him sob against her. "Anya loved you, loves you – she's here with you in spirit if nothing else."

 

"It just hurts so much," he cried. "Hurts so damn much and I feel like it's eating me from the inside out. I don't know how to live without her. She made the truth so clear, even when she shouldn't have." He rested his head on her shoulder and smiled bitterly, returning the embrace. "She embarrassed me without trying to more times than I can remember. She annoyed me more than anybody else I know. And…if I loved her anymore, I think my little heart would break." He laughed. "Imagine that."

 

"I could," Buffy said quietly. "Since the beginning, you're the one who's always been there for me, even when you I told you not to. You've done things that nobody asks you to do. Xander, you have the biggest heart in the world."

 

He pulled back and gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment, looking like a lost child searching vainly for an answer. "How'd things get so bad, Buff?" asked Xander. "Things weren't so bad a few years ago."

 

Buffy couldn't answer that. Something held her back – perhaps her own questions and doubts. All she could do to comfort her friend was cry with him. And so she did that.

 

They cried together until there was nothing left to cry, and then sat there on the couch, just holding each other. There was no romantic interest on either side anymore – just a sibling love that came from the deep friendship they shared.

 

 

* * *

 

Fred bravely posted vigil over Kennedy late into the night despite the others' warnings. They described her as violent, angry, and unpredictable, but Fred didn't see that in the injured Slayer lying before her on the bed.

 

Kennedy was withdrawn and seemed confused, as if she didn't know what to do in her situation. Fred couldn't relate, but she imagined she would be angry if she were her – not confused or withdrawn. From what she'd heard about Kennedy's personality, she'd expected Kennedy to be caught up in plans of fiery vengeance, or perhaps even carrying them out right this moment.

 

But no – instead she lay there on the bed, seeming to have given up. Was it that she felt Willow didn't care for her? She did. Fred knew she did. Back when the redhead had visited them she had had feelings for Kennedy, even at the beginning of their relationship. Fred could sense those kinds of things. Maybe Kennedy needed to know that.

 

"I just wanted to tell you, Kennedy," said Fred, "Willow cares about you. She loves Tara, but she still cares about you."

 

Kennedy knew that already, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to. She cared for Willow too, and that was what was making this decision so hard for her. Before, it had always been easy. Just do what Hades said, and look forward to the future happiness that was promised to her. Stupid conscience. Damn humanity.

 

She looked away.

 

Fred sighed. Kennedy's unresponsiveness had been consistent throughout the evening and up to this point, and despite her patience, it was getting to the scientist. "So…" She went to her last resort – small talk. "How did you get to Sunnydale?"

 

 _Hades_ , Kennedy thought bitterly.  _I was told to go, and I went, like the good little servant I am._

 

"Okay then." Fred tried one last time to provoke a response. "What did you do before Sunnydale? Just school? Were you interested in anything or was it training with your Watcher every day?"

 

Kennedy almost smiled at that. Fred was so innocent and sweet. That the girl could try to sympathize with her even though they were practically strangers reminded her of Tara…who was no doubt making good use of what would most likely be her last night on earth.

 

Kennedy still vividly remembered her own last night with Julia. The desperate holding and kissing – the knowing that it was their last time together. She had broken her promise to her love long ago, when she decided to do Hades' work in exchange for Julia. That last night, Kennedy had promised Julia to not let their separation be for naught, but her love for her soulmate was too much.

 

Julia would have to forgive her. She had to.

 

Fred didn't like silence. She couldn't stand talking into a void, and that was Kennedy right now. There was nothing she could do if the girl chose to remain like this. She couldn't make the choice for her. Sighing again, she left the room, hoping that Kennedy would change with the morrow.

 

Once Fred left the room, Kennedy sat up. She looked straight ahead of her, trying to conjure an image of her love. Long ago, it had been simple to do so, but now, it was almost as if she couldn't remember enough of Julia to imagine her. It had been too long.

 

The image of Julia always brought Kennedy peace, even in the darkest of times. Why not now, when she needed her most?

 

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

 

Kennedy touched it. She hadn't cried for over a century. Her tough façade wasn't just a show – she needed it to carry out what she needed to. Her iron will enabled her to watch as countless innocents sacrificed their souls in the name of love – and she, the first, stood by watching, stony faced.

 

Why was she so hesitant when it came to Willow and Tara? They weren't different from any of the others – lovers, soulmates trying to preserve their love. Kennedy had once been that too. She had been no different – and look where she was now.

 

They didn't deserve different. They were going to fight Hades – either way, Willow and Tara would be together. That wasn't so bad. There were worse fates than what they were facing.

 

With that, Kennedy decided. She would do as Hades said, and she would win Julia back to her. There would be a happy ending for all the witches. And they would have her to thank.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

An hour before the spell was to be cast, Tara sneaked off to Kennedy's room. She brought with her some healing tea that would reduce the pain she knew the Slayer was in. She wanted to help her, to ease Kennedy's evident hurting. Even if she didn't know how to, she had to try.

 

As she entered, Kennedy looked up. "Hey," said Tara. "I-I brought you some tea. It'll stop the pain for a bit."

 

"Thanks," Kennedy answered quietly. Tara's appearance surprised her. She should've been preparing the spell. The blonde Wiccan continued to prove why she had so easily won Willow's love. But despite her affection for Tara, she would still go forward with her plans. The blonde's appearance merely provided her with the opportunity to do so. Tara, whichever way she chose to look at it, was playing right into her hands.

 

"I'm sorry." Tara turned her head from preparing the cup of tea, having come to apologize in the first place. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. It must hurt for you to see me." She turned her back to Kennedy, preparing to leave.

 

"No." Kennedy stopped the blonde from leaving. "I should be sorry. You have no reason to apologize, Tara. I've been a bitch to both you and Will." Her eyes pleaded with Tara for forgiveness. "Can we put what I've done behind us?"

 

She didn't want to mean it, but deep down, she knew she did.

 

"It's okay, Kennedy," Tara soothed. She hated the sadness in the Slayer's eyes. She wanted to make it better. "I would be mad if I were you. I mean, if you loved somebody, but that person loved someone else…anybody would be angry. Nobody can blame you for how you feel. It's human."

 

 _It's human_. The words resonated through Kennedy's mind like a poison. She hated the feeling of humanity. It made her weak, unsure, incapable. But it was what she had been – and what she still was, in essence. No matter how much she hated it, she couldn't ignore what the remnants of her soul told her – that what she was doing was wrong. Only her love drove her forward. Her love for Julia gave her control over her actions and would give her strength for what she would need to do.

 

"Willow gave me all I could ever hope for," Kennedy lied, trying to comfort Tara. "I guess I need to be happy with what I have."

 

"She's attracted to you, Kennedy," Tara stated, "and I know I should be jealous, but I'm not. You're beautiful and kind. I would have loved for Willow to be with you if things were different. You would have taken care of her." Tara sat down on the side of the bed, handing Kennedy her tea. "Here, drink this. You'll feel better."

 

Kennedy took a long sip. The tea worked instantly, cooling the boiling blood around her gashes and filling her with gentle warmth from head to toe. "Thanks." She dove back into the Willow-focused discussion. "Willow loves you, though, and I can see why. You're so gently and loving – I mean, look at how I treated you two when you came in to see me. If I were you, I'd be beating the shit out of me. But you see past all that. Willow chose you for a reason. She fell in love with you because you're amazing."

 

Tara blushed, looking away momentarily. "Thank you."

 

Kennedy continued to sip at the tea. "I wish I had time to get to know you better, Tara," she whispered.

 

"What does that mean?" Tara arched an eyebrow.

 

Kennedy moaned, her back arching off the bed as her face contorted in a grimace of pain. Her fingers loosened their grip on the cup and it dropped to the floor, shattering instantly.

 

"Kennedy, what's wrong?" Tara stood up, knocking her chair down in the process, staring down in bewilderment at the brunette.

 

The Slayer cried out, her limbs flailing out and grasping at the bed post, her body all the while writhing from side to side as if trying to escape from an invisible opponent. Her eyes blinked open and closed inhumanly fast, her mouth opened now in a silent scream. Her left hand swung out, fist narrowly missing Tara but connecting with the bedside drawer, knocking it over.

 

"Sorry," she whispered as her body slowly relaxed and her head rolled to one side, her eyes closing as she let out one final laboured breath. Tara knew without a doubt that Kennedy was dead.

 

As the others rushed in having heard the screaming, she sank to the floor. Had she mixed the healing potion wrong? Had she misread the labels in the herb supply? She must have. Kennedy was dead – and it was her fault.

 

"Kennedy." Willow ran in, her hand clasping over her mouth as she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her ex's prone body on the bed. "Is she –"

 

"She's dead," Giles declared, checking Kennedy's pulse. He looked at the cup on the floor. There was an assortment of herbs and flowers in the mixture, but his sharp eyes picked out the lethal digitalis among them. "Sh-she was poisoned."

 

"It's my fault," Tara admitted in a whispered. All eyes in the room turned to her in disbelief. "I-I made the healing tea…I must have made it wrong. I-I…I killed her."

 

 

* * *

 

Kennedy approached Hades, her gait confident, but cautious. Her heart was troubled with what she had done, but it had been needed – no way around it.

 

From where he lay on the couch, Hades clapped his hands together, an amused smile on his salient features. "Excellent work, Kennedy!" He laughed. "You have far exceeded my expectations." He applauded her once again. "Observe your handiwork."

 

He gestured, and a window of mist formed – a window back to the Imperion. It was horrible. Kennedy felt as if a whip were lashing out at her for every tear on Willow and Tara's faces as they wept, one in disbelief and anger, the other distraught and confused.

 

Willow was staring mutely at her lover, not being able to form words for what Tara had done. She was torn between comforting her love and giving her what she felt she deserved – the extent of her anger.

 

Tara lay curled into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth as she sobbed "I did it" over and over. Kennedy's humanity reached out to the witch, all the while inwardly punishing herself for inflicting such pain on an innocent. She had to hold back the tears, not being allowed to show any emotion in front of her Master.

 

Meanwhile, her gaze wandered off to her own body, lifeless on the bed, supposedly murdered. It disturbed her. Kennedy's limbs hung out at odd angles, proof of the death spasms she must have had. Still, her face seemed peaceful, free of pain – ironic that she was the cause of all the discord in the room.

 

With a wave of his hand, the images disappeared and Hades turned back to Kennedy, still grinning. "Pure genius," he declared. "Poisoning yourself while the white's back was turned. The pain was great, I hope?"

 

"As always, Master." Kennedy bowed her head. Pain was a blessing, Hades had taught her. It was only in pain that could you perform to your highest potential.

 

"Come, Kennedy." Hades stretched luxuriously before lifting himself up from his seat and walked gracefully to the door. He turned and looked at her, his eyes alight with excitement. "We have _much_  to prepare for." He gestured for her to follow.

 

"Yes, Master." She did as she was told.

 

But as she reached the entrance, he rose up in all his fury, towering high above her. "See that this is my victory," he warned, his height and fire dwindling already. He put his hands together, smiling menacingly. "Your happiness is at stake here."

 

Kennedy bowed her head, knowing it was true. Her performance here would determine her future. "I know, Master. I will not fail you."

 

Hades nodded. "That's right. Keep your eyes on the prize."

 

 

* * *

 

Back in the room, all eyes still rested on Tara.

 

"Tara? What's going on?" Willow kept her eyes to the floor, not being able to look her love in the face.

 

"I…I don't know," Tara whispered. "I-I must have mixed my healing tea wrong, and it…" She trailed off, not being able to form the words proclaiming Kennedy's fate.

 

"She's the only one who could've done it," Buffy said quietly, resigned.

 

"It was digitalis," Giles explained. "The flower, when taken in a concentrated form, can cause your heart to swell up and if not treated within seconds of consumption, will lead to a painful death." He kept his eyes carefully trained on the body, not wanting to believe that the gentle blonde could do such a thing. Tara, from his experience, was the most careful person he knew. She almost never made a mistake. Also, digitalis was not a flower normally found in magick supplies. He didn't want to tell anyone, but the only conclusion he could come up with was that Tara had murdered Kennedy. "Tara…Willow…you can't let this come between what you must do."

 

"It was an accident." Tara was no longer crying, but her eyes betrayed her utter despair at having taken a life, even in accident.

 

"There's no time to figure this out," Giles declared, determined to stay strong for everyone. "You must challenge Hades in a few minutes."

 

Tara nodded, staring mutely down at the floor. She got up and walked to the door.

 

"We'll deal with Kennedy." Her ears picked up Faith's mumbled words to Buffy.

 

Willow followed Tara outside and touched her arm hesitantly. She led her down to the basement staircase and sat down, hands folded in front of her, still not looking at the blonde. Her shoulders were hunched up, body tensed tightly in.

 

Tara obediently trailed behind her. She knew this was hurting the redhead in so many ways. She wanted to make it better, but she couldn't…she was the cause of this pain.

 

"Why'd you do it?" she asked. Her voice came out as a harsh breath and she raised a hand to wipe away fresh tears.

 

"I-I…" Tara didn't know what to say. The mistake was hers, and although she hadn't meant it, it was done. Kennedy was gone. Willow had all the right to blame her.

 

"Were you jealous, baby?" Willow looked up, an almost vacant glaze over her eyes. "Did you think I would choose Ken over you?"

 

"Of course not!" Tara captured her gaze and wouldn't let it go. She pleaded silently with Willow to understand. "I would never doubt that –"

 

"You're the only one who could've done it, Tara!" Willow's eyes hardened. "You know that I care for her. There was no way I was going to leave you – why'd you have to freakin' kill her?"

 

"I…I didn't mean to, Will." Tara reached out to the redhead, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Please…you've gotta understand." She couldn't touch her any more than she was – not without Willow's consent.

 

Willow stared at Tara's hand for a while, not knowing what to do. She was angry, confused as hell – but intentionally killing Kennedy…that wasn't a Tara thing to do. She had to block this out right now. They had something important to do. "I don't know what's going on here," she said firmly after a few seconds, "but we'll figure it out after." She took Tara's hand in her own and kissed it. "I love you, a million kittens."

 

"I love you too." Tara hugged Willow tightly to herself as she let her tears flow. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry for this happening."

 

"I'll always forgive you in the end," Willow whispered softly into her ear. She kissed Tara's cheek. "C'mon. We've gotta go."

 

They rose up together and climbed the stairs. Tara squeezed Willow's hand, trying to give the both of them strength. They were going to need it.

 

 

* * *

 

_"Promise me, Ken. Promise me."_

 

_They stood together quietly, off to the side. Only a few minutes remained now. Kennedy held Julia to her, not wanting to let her go. She knew she would have to. They had no choice. It was for the greater good._

 

_"Remember our reason of existence," Julia pleaded. "Remember our love."_

 

Remember our love… _Kennedy vowed in her heart never to forget. "I promise, Jules. I promise."_

 

_"I love you." Julia drew back, gazing into a sea of brown. "Forever."_

 

_"You'll be the song in my heart. Nothing will extinguish the fire which is my love for you." Kennedy leaned down, capturing Julia's lips in a desperate kiss._

 

It's time. _They both knew their time was up. Julia wrapped her arms around Kennedy for the last time. The clock was ticking. They would make use of and treasure what they had left._

 

_Finally they drew apart and walked hand in hand to the circle. Strong and sure, Julia stepped into the center, her head held high as she eyed the gnarled demon hatefully._

 

_Hades grinned and winked._

 

_It took all the strength Kennedy possessed to keep herself from directing the deathblow into the hellgod. She knew it would be in vain. It would only satisfy her anger, something trivial in comparison to what was at stake here._

 

__Trembling, she raised the knife that materialized in her hand and began to chant…_ _

 

 

* * *

 

Hand in hand they stepped into the circle over candles outlining the shape. The others stood off to the side, leaving the center of the room as bare as the ring on the boarded floor.

 

Silently, they sat facing each other, clearing their minds of all thought.

 

Willow began the chant.

 

_Nos dico vos, custodis abyssus. In nomen polus, nos requiro vestri celebratio._

 

Tara followed, repeating the spell.

 

_Nos dico vos, custodis abyssus. In nomen polus, nos requiro vestri celebratio._

 

They repeated it together, their voices rising in crescendo throughout.

 

_Nos dico vos, custodis abyssus. In nomen polus, nos requiro vestri celebratio._

 

The candles surrounding them flared up in bright flame and the witches fell back.

 

All was silent as the group stared at the burning fire signifying that Willow and Tara lived. They could only wait.

 

 

* * *

 

Willow and Tara stood in a black void. Darkness surrounded them. They did not show their fear, but it was there in overwhelming force. Wherever they looked, there was nothing – nothing upon nothing upon nothing.

 

Suddenly, they were no longer alone. Hades materialized across from them in all his terror, chuckling.

 

"Greetings, Black and White." He nodded to Willow. "We meet again." He waved his hands, creating a dark dungeon-like setting. "Come to play, have you?"

 

They didn't answer. His presence was confident, powerful. They couldn't let him intimidate them more. Quickly, they began to chant. " _Nostrum vinculum amor mos expello vos ex is plagiarius._ "

 

Hades threw his head back, roaring in laughter. "You cannot beat me, mortals! Your hearts are not pure." He folded his hands in front of him, a sinister grin on his face.

 

Tara stopped, the words unable to flow out from her mouth any longer. Kennedy. Once again, the guilt hit her full on. She was not pure. Hades was right.  _Willow._  She looked over at the redhead in desperation.  _He's right._

 

 _It's okay_ , Willow thought back fiercely.  _We'll do this._  Inwardly, she knew Hades was right as well. Tara killed Kennedy. She had to forgive her, but she couldn't! Not so soon. They were not pure. "Goddamn it," she cursed.

 

Hades nodded. "That's right, Black. You think you're special?" He shook his head, tutting mockingly. "All who challenge me get this far."

 

They tried again. " _Nostrum vinculum amor mos expello vos ex is plagiarius. Nostrum amor est validus. Nostrum amor mos non intereo. Nostrum amor reluctor vos."_ Hades didn't even stop them this time. The spell did nothing.

 

"Ow." The hellgod pouted. "I'm hurt." He snapped his fingers and immediately, his terrible aura flared up, burning the witches. "You are weak. The Powers chose weaklings." He sneered.

 

"Will, something's wrong." Tara glanced over at her lover. "Something's really wrong. The spell didn't work." Their hands were clasped together so tightly that their fingers were white. It wasn't working.  _I love you, Will. Through anything, even this. Stay strong_ , she encouraged.

 

Willow nodded.  _Let's get him._

 

In sync, they lifted their hands, together forming a strong wind. It lashed out at Hades, knocking him off his feet.

 

"Better," he applauded. He hurled the spell back at them, but they erected a shield.

 

Hades cocked his head to the side. "Alright then. We can play a game then." He raised his hand, a purple fire igniting in the palm. Willow saw it coming and tried to pull Tara out of the way but she failed to keep her balance, throwing them right in the path of the incoming ball of flame.

 

But there was no pain. Willow checked Tara out. "Are you okay?"

 

Tara nodded, hugging the redhead tightly to her. "Where'd he go?" Hades was gone.

 

"Never mind him," Willow sighed, thankful they were safe for the time being. She didn't want to let go of Tara, the blonde's steadily beating heart reassuring her. "Are you okay?" Willow glanced worriedly up and down her body, checking for injury.

 

"I'm fine," Tara assured with a frown. "Absolutely fine. I don't get it. Something's really wrong here…"

 

"C'mere." Willow soothingly gathered the blonde into her arms in what she knew would very likely be a vain attempt to comfort her, all the while keeping her perceptions alert to Hades' return. "I love you. A-and before whatever happens next…I wanna tell you that you're my always, my love, forever – no matter what." She smiled wanly. "It's like I can't get tired of saying that to you." Tara opened her mouth, panic in her eyes, but Willow silenced her with a gentle finger. "Just hold on, I need to say this. I don't know if you killed Kennedy, and maybe I'm not ready to let that go just yet – but I know I will, because I need you more than anything in the world. Everything's gonna be alright." She didn't know that, but it seemed like the right thing to say, and she knew she wanted it to be true. They would get through this. They would win. And they would prosper.

 

"Will it?" Tara whispered. "I don't know, Will."

 

Willow knew something was horribly amiss here. Tara's blue eyes grew darker and darker as the seconds passed, uninhibited lust threatening to devour her brimming, barely being held back by the witch. Throughout her last words, Tara's voice had been dropping lower and lower, and as the blonde pulled back to stare unabashedly into her eyes, panic ignited in Willow.

 

"T-Tara?" she questioned, shaking. "What's happening?"

 

"I-I…I don't know." The blonde's eyes re-focused and looked down at trembling hands. She gritted her teeth together, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, so great was the exertion of effort and willpower she was using to keep in whatever force attacked her.

 

"Tara!" Willow yelled, her voice unconsciously rising in her fear and uncertainty. "Tara?"

 

"Stay away, Will," Tara almost growled. She clenched her fists, unclenched them, clenched them again. "I can't hold it back much longer."

 

"Hold what back?" Willow asked dumbly. She knew. It was Hades. She knew she should do as she was told and move away, but she couldn't bring herself to let go of Tara. What would happen to her love if she did? Willow couldn't let go. She just couldn't. "It's gonna be okay." There was nothing else she could say. She  _had_  to at least  _try_  to help. She prodded gently into Tara's mind, trying to tap into the core of struggle, to relieve the tension – anything. But she was forcefully pushed out.

 

"No," Tara stated evenly – or what might have been evenly if it weren't for the unfocused inflection in her voice. She roughly shoved Willow back, away. Anywhere but near her. "Get back, Will, I'm warning you!" She cursed under her breath, teeth gritted, body now pitched forward, limbs pushed into the ground. She resembled an animal, a predator, preparing to attack her prey.

 

Now Willow began to backpedal quite vigorously. Tara was advancing upon her, a pained chase as the blonde would poise to pounce then take control of herself once more before falling under the powerful influence Willow knew Hades held over her.  _C'mon, Baby, pull out of this. Fight him._  Tara, if she so wished to do so, had the power to do terrible things to Willow, as could Willow to Tara.

 

They would never abuse their powers under any circumstance, had vowed they would never, but Tara was helpless in this situation…and consequently, so was Willow. She was essentially helpless to Tara's powers if the blonde's puppet master wished to use them. She could never lay a finger on her love.

 

It was an eternal dance. Predator and prey moving away and towards each other until finally, the chase ended.

 

Tara was on top of Willow in a second, kissing, biting, devouring her lips, her neck…her Willow. Her hands groped, squeezed, clawed painfully over soft skin, leaving angry red marks wherever they passed over.

 

Willow cried out as Tara bit down into her neck. She was pinned to the ground, arms held magically above her head – and Tara taking whatever she wanted. She couldn't fight back. Tara would have her way with her. But every bite, every lick, every second this continued, Willow and Tara died a little more.

 

But suddenly, it stopped and Tara was staring down at her, panting. Their tears mingled on Willow's cheeks as unspoken words flashed between them.

 

"I'm sorry," Tara whispered. Quivering, she brushed away the redhead's tears. It hurt to touch her, to know that she had done horrible things to her love. Her fingers caressed the swollen tooth marks adorning Willow's neck. "I'm s-so so sorry."

 

It was taking control of her again. She could feel the animal lust welling up inside of her, relentless waves crashing against the shores of her resolve – and she couldn't hold it off long. Her mind screamed, ordered her body to stop, but she was a prisoner trapped, caged insider herself – a helpless observer to her actions.

 

Willow smiled through her tears, shaking hands reaching up to lovingly cup wet cheeks. She did the only thing she knew how to do. Wincing, she lifted herself up and still trembling, brushed infinitely soft lips together. They moved their mouths slowly, savouring the ephemeral love, wanting, needing to prolong this reprieve…

 

…until Hades intervened once more.

 

Tara could only scream silently, watching as she took pleasure from Willow, made her cry out, made her scream. She was violating Willow's body, Willow's soul, Willow's trust. It made her want to vomit. But she couldn't. She didn't have control of her physical being.

 

This was her fault. If only she could be stronger, could fight harder, could save them from this. But she couldn't. She wasn't able to.

 

And then she was fucking her, forcing her fingers through dry wrinkled skin, growling as she didn't find what she wanted. She pumped her fingers in and out, in and out, searching, craving, forcing Willow's arousal.

 

In pain, Willow screamed. She was trying to remain strong, but her resilience was waning. She knew it wasn't Tara's fault, but this was breaking her thrust by thrust. To see such moral disregard in Tara's actions hurt her so much, but she couldn't be angry. They were both victims here. She wanted to be strong for Tara, to lend her strength, even if she needed to save that for herself. It wouldn't help her here. She had to help Tara.

 

Up until this point, Willow had resisted Tara's advances. She could feel, hear her body, screaming to be aroused but found within herself an impossible spring of persistence that refused to give in. But she knew that as long as she continued to hold back, so as long as Tara would continue her torture. So slowly, she let herself ebb away into nothingness, giving in to Hades, rising above the pain, above all feeling. She had to help Tara. She had to end it.

 

Willow thrust her hips up into Tara's fingers, gyrating, writhing, opening herself.

 

 _Willow, don't!_  Tara's soul screamed. She saw the redhead giving up – she couldn't. They had to fight! They couldn't give up…

 

But there was nothing either of them could do.

 

Tara roughly captured Willow's mouth once more, sucking and biting, drawing blood. The crimson taste slid across her senses, stimulating, arousing all the more. Inside, she could see only the blood, the red, and more red. They distinct salty flavour provided such ecstasy, such pleasure to her, an orgasm of taste. It was all she could perceive.

 

The blonde lay half on top of the redhead, one hand supporting her weight, the other pushing below, in and out, in and out, deeper in and deeper in. Willow merely lay spread-eagle on her back, tears flooding down her cheeks.

 

She had been crying so long, so hard that the ground around them was stained wet – wet with tears, wet with sweat, ripe with poignant smell of pain.

 

Willow's body responded mutely, her arousal slowly building, being allowed to be built, rising drop by drop in an excruciating trek to the peak. Every moment was an uphill battle; to climb higher was to violate every principle that existed in their minds – but there was no way to go but up.

 

Then at last, it ended. Willow screamed as she came and Tara fell on top of her panting, crying. The scent of sex hung like a cloud above them, around them, in them, permeating their skin and into their souls. It was dirty, disgusting, vile.

 

Tara could feel Willow beneath her, could smell her tears, smell her cum, smell her pain. And she couldn't stand it. Summoning the last vestiges of her strength, she lifted herself off of Willow. She didn't want to be near her, was scared of what Hades might make her do if she were.

 

But the one moment she was directly above the redhead, her horrible work spread beneath her, the bile that had been unable to come out before shot out of her and she was barely able to turn her head to the side before heaving out the contents of her stomach. When she had finished retching and coughing, she rolled to the other side so that she was lying beside Willow and not on top of her.

 

Her nose was clogged and she could hear the keening wail coming from her throat. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. Tara didn't want to.

 

Willow felt hollow, still helpless. She was both mentally and physically exhausted, hurt. But it wasn't Tara's fault, she told herself again. Willow had seen, felt, smelled, heard the horrible things done to her by the hand of the one she loved, yet she couldn't blame Tara. Neither of them had wanted this to happen.

 

But she had tried, tried to enter Tara's mind, to combine her strength with Tara's…and been shut out at every door she tried. It was like Tara hadn't wanted and hadn't let her share whatever turmoil broiled beneath her exterior. It bothered Willow that Tara didn't trust that she could handle it.

 

The two witches lay side-by-side, unable to touch each other. It hurt too much. They were broken in every way. Guilt-stricken, horror-stricken, grief-stricken they were. But they weren't finished. They came to this dimension to do something, and they had to finish it. The world's well-being rested on their shoulders. No matter how huge the burden, they were charged to carry it, and they would. Their pain was secondary to this.

 

It was a struggle, but they stood, looking around for their nemesis.

 

Mocking applause sounded from behind them. They turned quickly and there he stood, smirk on his face, leaning casually against a hooded figure. An obedient shadow, it stood still and silent beside Hades, body neutral.

 

"Fallen so easily, just like the rest." Hades tutted. "I expected the Powers to save the best for last. Perhaps, I was mistaken." His mouth curled down in a sort of disappointed pout, laughable in other circumstances, but just sadistic and cruel here.

 

Willow and Tara knew what to do. It would be painful, but they had to. There was no other way. Trembling and wincing at the moment of contact, they joined hands. The warm and comforting feeling of reassurance this normally brought was absent, replaced by a cold hollow hole of discord and uncertainty. They weren't comfortable with each other. How could they be after what had happened? The future was clouded in obscurity, in a place where neither could go to right now; there were much more important things at stake.

 

" _Nostrum vinculum amor mos expello vos ex is plagiarius. Nostrum amor est validus. Nostrum amor mos non intereo. Nostrum amor reluctor vos."_ As they had come to expect, it didn't work.

 

"You aren't pure," Hades explained, spreading his hands before him as if trying to make them understand. The putrid scent of false concern radiated from his eyes. "Your love is strained. You need to overcome these restricting hurdles!"

 

There was nothing they could do anymore. Tara wouldn't forgive herself, and at this point, they could barely touch each other. How could they win this? Willow looked frantically at the blonde. She searched the indentations of her dimples, the depths of blue in her eyes, seeking re-assurance. There was nothing but fear and haunt.

 

"W-Will, what are we gonna do?" Tara whispered. Long gone was any strength, any poise. Here, fear drenched through, soaking the atmosphere, her aura. And she was crying again.

 

"We're not gonna be able to do this, are we…" Willow admitted.

 

Tara slowly shook her head. "There's t-too much to work through." She shuddered as she tried to squeeze Willow's hand. Her fingers were cold and shaking. "I'm s-so sorry."

 

Hades sighed. "I guess you're right. Alright then." He smiled. "No more games." Leisurely, he raised his hand, palm-up. "Y'know, I take great in pleasure in doing this. It gives me a sense of triumph, a taste of vengeance. Your masters are a bunch of manipulative wretches too used to power. They don't care about anybody but themselves. That's why you're here. You may be innocents in the scheme of things, but I'm going to devour your loveliness as they look on, and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it."

 

They could sense the power welling up inside and around him, malleable to his will, there at his beck and call. A mere thought would send that destructive energy hurtling towards them. It whirled menacingly, teasing, winding, building to be sent forward to do the hellgod's bidding. Building and building, it grew in its intensity, reared back –

 

"Stop." A calm voice pierced the ominous silence. "Master."

 

It was the shadowy figure, all but forgotten, smirking from beneath her, for she was most definitely a female judging from her voice, hood. "A moment, please."

 

Something about her voice struck Willow as familiar. In fact, she knew whose voice it belonged to.

 

Kennedy.

 

The supposedly-dead Slayer stood in front of them now, hood thrown back, arms crossed over her chest.

 

Hades chuckled. "Finally chose to speak up, I see.

 

"Yes, Master."

 

"Would you like to play, my treasure? They are helpless now."

 

"I wouldn't have stopped you if I didn't."

 

Hades began to move away, retreating into the shadows. "Kill them when you're done. I will watch your handiwork from afar."

 

Willow stared indignantly at the brunette. A slow fear crept coldly up her back. "W-who are you?" she squeaked out in her smallest voice. The Kennedy she knew wasn't like this. Kennedy, she knew, had her faults, but was never like this…so mocking, so sadistic, so cruel.

 

"Don't you know, Will?" She pouted, her expression much like her master's. "I'm disappointed. I thought you would have figured it out by now."

 

"Y-you're the F-First," Tara whispered. Her head hung low, eyes facing the ground, unable to look up from the anger and guilt in her eyes. She had been used in so many ways, and she hadn't been smart enough to see it sooner. Not until it was already too late.

 

"Smart girl," Kennedy commended. "I was the First, am the First. You could say I'm your older sister." Suddenly, the relaxed expression of cynicism on her face shifted to one of frighteningly focused hatred. "The Powers, they sacrificed us first, gave us to Hades in exchange for their meager existence. They threw us at him like worthless trinkets, offered us up as penance for their weakness, and we went like the little obedient servants we were." Her expression once again softened, this time to one of regret and loss. It reflected a glimpse of her true suffering. "But I saved her from this. I wouldn't let her give herself in my stead. So I killed her." She inhaled dramatically, exhaling particles of dark matter. "Now, I am the most powerful witch in existence." She giggled, bringing her hand to her lips to partially cover the disdainful look on her features. "And you are my playmates."

 

She snapped her fingers, and immediately a ring of fire rose up around the pair. The silhouette of Kennedy stood framed by tongues of red, orange, and yellow, licking around her, welcoming her.

 

The intense explosion of heat seared Willow and Tara's flesh. The ring slowly closed in around them, inch by inch, painstakingly slow, leering and frightening. It threatened to consume them. The flames leaned in, whispering tales of eternal ache and hurt to them, telling them what was in store.

 

They feared it, this fire. It would burn away all their goodness and leave them with a shell of themselves – ghouls of the dark. They shrank away, raising limbs to protect sensitive faces from scorching.

 

"Are you scared yet?" Kennedy yelled. "This is how I felt when I found out I was going to hell!" Her bitterness captured her entire being and wrapped so deeply into her anger, she lashed out with all the force of her mind.

 

Willow and Tara conjured a shield which deflected the brunt of the dark energy, but despite their efforts Kennedy's mind was too powerful. The spears of matter battered against their dual-source energy, eating away at the essence until there was nothing to protect them any longer.

 

And then, there was only pain – excruciating currents running up and down, left and right, over and over again, traveling throughout their veins in a never ending cycle. All senses were slowly stripped away, deteriorating under the steady flow of energy until only one sense remained – a scream of incoherent high-pitched pain.

 

"Why?" Willow cried out. "Why would you do this?" The hum of delirium grew louder at a steady crescendo, but she needed to know this as inviting as delirium was at the moment. What could make a pure lover become so twisted? What could cause such remorse and anger? Willow was angry, but not just at Kennedy, or Tara, even. She was angry at her masters, the so-called benevolent Powers That Be. She had never seen the other side of the battle, always following like an obedient puppy whatever the higher beings requested, like it was all she was made to do. Honestly, she was tired of this, constantly being used as a puny pawn in plans of the bigger picture that she couldn't see. She was tired of having to constantly fight for her life. She was tired of constantly having to worry about tomorrow.

 

Above all, Willow was tired of being supernatural. Willow just wanted to be normal.

 

"Why?" Kennedy put her hand to her chin, as if entertaining the thought for the first time. She once again snapped her fingers, releasing them from their torture. Gasping for air, taking in the sweetness of much-missed oxygen, Willow and Tara collapsed to the ground.

 

Kennedy walked leisurely up to them and knelt down beside Tara, who was only semi-conscious still. A cool smooth hand reached up to stroke the unresponsive blonde's cheek. She turned to Willow. "Do you love her, Will?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

 

There was nothing Willow could do but nod.

 

"If you lost her, you would do anything to get her back, right?"

 

She nodded.

 

Nonchalantly, the brunette dragged her nails across Tara's cheek. The blonde moaned, the sting jarring her from the momentary bliss of oblivion. Kennedy glanced down at the witch, a fleeting sad smile flashing across her face. Her head snapped back up at Willow. "Did you feel that?" she hissed. "Did you feel that sting when I hurt her?"

 

She had. What was very likely only a light scratch had struck right across her soul; Tara's cry had broken her heart.

 

Kennedy looked away. "Every moment for a thousand years, Julia has cried for me," she said softly. "Can you begin to fathom my pain, children?"

 

"Y-you've been alone for so long." It came no louder than a whisper, barely louder than a breath. Tara, broken-bodied, broken-souled, broken-minded, raised a trembling hand to Kennedy's. "I-I u-understand. You h-have to be with t-the one you l-love."

 

Willow recalled an afternoon not so long ago when those words had been directed towards her – the day she made the biggest decision of her life.

 

"Y-you n-need to b-be, or else, you c-can't survive," Tara murmured. "It's s-so painful, unbear-rable, and you'll do anything to g-get rid of that feeling."

 

"What would you know?" Kennedy yelled. She slapped Tara hard across the jaw, sending her body a few feet to the left, limp. Willow distinctly heard a bone break.

 

Kennedy's anger had flared up again, but she hid the regret flawlessly. Her reunion with Julia depended on her performance here. Even now, he watched her closely from just under the cover of darkness. Hades didn't trust her, never did. They only thing that kept her in check was Julia, her greatest blessing, her greatest sorrow. This was all for her.

 

She didn't want to do this, didn't want to hurt Tara or Willow. Kennedy had always been the gentle one. She had been the white in her and Julia's coupling. She had been the purity. And she had given that up for this – for this hell. She just wanted it to end. No more loneliness, no more longing, no more misery. Just Julia – with her, forever, like they were supposed to be.

 

Her slight weakness must have been observed by Tara as the blonde lifted herself up so that she was facing Kennedy, a trying endeavour in her state. "Your p-pain, Kennedy, it pours off of you. You m-miss h-her. You've been without her for s-so long. Y-you want…want to touch her, to just h-hold her. A-and it's okay to feel like that. That's l-love."

 

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch!" Now Tara was off the ground, held aloft by a renewed burst of dark energy. Kennedy's hand was shaped into a claw, slowly tightening, suffocating the blonde.

 

"No!" Willow screamed. "Please, Ken, don't!" It pained her so much to see this happening. She'd admitted to herself that day that she cared for Kennedy, and seeing two people she loved suffer – she couldn't take it. She was in both their positions, and once again, helpless. It was becoming a recurring thought. Helplessness, not being able to do anything for anybody. Her body, mind and soul screamed out to Tara, her unadulterated valiance being the cause for her pain, but she couldn't do a thing, so weak was she in her wrecked condition. And her sympathy reached out towards Kennedy. She could feel her loneliness, had experienced that loneliness. It was like a quicksand, surrounding you and inviting you into its clutches – never letting you go but making you sink deeper and deeper until there was only you and the sand.

 

"Please, Kennedy…" she begged. "Let her go!"

 

Kennedy gritted her teeth inwardly, but shook her head.

 

"K-Kennedy." Tara persevered, despite the pain. "It's…okay to love someone this much." Her voice had been soft to begin with, but with the added pressure of Kennedy's mind, it was reduced to a hoarse whispered hack.

 

But an idea had formed in the back of her mind – their only chance at survival, and if not their own, perhaps that of the world and their loved ones. It was risky, but in her panic, this was the only idea she had left. "But…but th-think about…the rest of the world," she pleaded. She had to make Kennedy change; it was the only way. Willow and her couldn't do this; not if Kennedy wouldn't let them. She was too powerful, too strong. Tara had to bring her over to their side. But there was so much risk.

 

Even now, the lack of air making its way to her brain was affecting her reasoning. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and the world was closing in around her. Courageously, she forced out the last thought she could still remember. "If y-you get to be with Julia, what will happen to the rest of the people out there? Th-the innocent people?"

 

She fell backwards and landed hard as Kennedy released her grip on Tara's throat. As coherence rushed back into her, the blonde pushed out the final sentence in her plea. "S-sometimes, we've gotta make s-sacrifices. E-even if it means w-we don't end up getting what w-we w-want m-most. "

 

"Stop." There was silence – a cold, calculating silence ripe with the opportunities of death or life. It would all be decided here.

 

Willow held her breath. Tara's courage both elated and worried her – it was risky, and things could go either way from here. Her words may have gotten to Kennedy, but at the same time, there was a large margin of change that it would only provoke more torture.

 

But she was proud of her lover – proud of how she persisted without a thought to her own well-being. She put the world before herself. If only Tara could see that none of this was her fault –  _none_ of it. That was Tara's greatest fault, always blaming herself for everything that went wrong and stubbornly facing the consequences on her own.

 

Willow forgave her; forgave her for anything, everything. They had to clear this hurdle. She wanted a family, wanted to live to see Dawn finish high school, wanted to leave this all behind – but in order to do that, they had to beat Hades first. She would do anything for that.  _I love you, Tara. I love you. Hold on, baby, I'm coming to help._

 

The deafening silence prevailed, looming ever more as an indication of things to come. For the moment, neutrality reigned, but it would all change in a second with Kennedy's decision.

 

The witch hadn't released Tara voluntarily. It didn't go according to plan, and she needed her plan to do this with her resolve waning so. She had to finish them off, slowly, cruelly; she had to flaunt the extent of her power to her soul-master. But something in Tara's plea had awakened something inside her – something she had no control over.

 

Could it be…her soul? The soul that Hades couldn't take away from her but merely…dampen?

 

No…the part in her that had for so long lay dormant was stretching its legs, yawning as it awakened from a millennia-long sleep. It hurt. Damn, it hurt like it never had before. Consciousness for this creature of pure white that rested within her pulling at her heartstrings, making her lose control of this very precarious situation – there was a rushing of guilt, of muddling.

 

No! Not now! Why? Years of building to clarity, to goals… ruined, ruined by her damn conscience. She wouldn't let anything get in the way with her close enough to smell Julia. It was against all her ethics. For thousands of years, her only thought was Julia.

 

But it felt as if Julia was the one doing the tugging in her heart, pleading her to reconsider her motives. She was pleading with her, begging her to stop. She didn't want to listen, but…she held no power over her love and obsession – she held all the cards.

 

 _I'll always love you,_  Julia whispered.  _I'll never stop loving you, but you have to do the right thing. Our sun is setting. It isn't our time anymore._

 

"No!" Kennedy was unable to hold her tongue. She balled her fists as she began to shake with anger. "Our time…will never set…"

 

Tara could sense the conflict in Kennedy's heart. It devastated her to have to stoop to methods of the sort, but this time, it was necessary…this horror.

 

Willow, meanwhile, had pulled her body to be beside Tara, determined to lend her support in whatever way possible. She knew what Tara had done. And she knew what she needed to do. It was something simple, wondrous, and sacred to the two of them – but it would always be enough. She moved her hand on the ground, turning it palm up. She touched Tara's left hand, smiling gently at her, prodding.

 

Tara looked down at their partly intertwined fingers, then at Willow, searching for permission and forgiveness. She found it waiting readily for her.

 

Slowly, like their first touch, fingers touched more steadily, and then knuckles, more and more skin until their palms were pressed tightly together.

 

Their minds melded and all barriers dissipated – all misgivings righted, until…they were one in mind. Tara's pure white mixed with Willow's powerful black, bonding in an unbreakable tie. It was fueled by love, built by love, strong from love.

 

Willow remembered this feeling, though not in this magnitude. She'd felt it many times with Tara in their two years together, and had last experienced it in the abandoned shell of Sunnydale High mere days ago, but she had never felt it like this. Not this complete, not this filling. No, this was the utmost pinnacle of ecstasy, the epitome of purity, the highest of the highest places. This was the feeling of absoluteness. This was the feeling of real, true love. This was the feeling of hurdles overcome. This was stronger renewal of what was truly theirs. And Willow knew that no matter how they tried to, they would never reach these heights again.

 

This was the peak of their time.

 

Oh, they were a sight to behold. Risen up strong, hair whipping to frame their concentrated faces, eyes flooded with the brilliant light of goodness – it struck fear into the deepest depths of Hades. His plan had failed for the first time. Strife and discord he had sown no longer existed within the two. It was completely purged now and replaced with a calm center of security. He needed to act quickly, lest all he had done be for naught. "Kennedy, finish them now!"

 

"You must choose, Kennedy," Tara and Willow whispered. "The fate of the world rests in your hand." There was a divine tone to their combined voices. They turned to each other and simultaneously nodded. " _Nostrum vinculum amor mos expello vos ex is plagiarius. "_

 

"Kennedy!" Furious, Hades rushed forward in his astounding speed, his mind preparing a colossal blast that would wipe the witches from the face of any dimension. He would not let anything ruin the day he had looked forward to for so long. Nothing. Fiery quick and unstoppable, he released the energy. They would die the two of them; destroyed by the darkest of darkest energies. No light could stand against this.

 

The witches knew that.  _Quicker._  There was panic. It was dangerously close. They could feel the darkness and it was getting closer and closer. The seconds were ticking down towards destruction. There was nothing they could do but, " _Nostrum amor est validus. Nostrum – "_

 

It hit. But it didn't hit them. It hit the dazzling shield of pure black energy.

 

Kennedy had made her decision in that flash of a moment. She knew she would regret it…but at the same time, maybe it wasn't so bad. Julia's memory, for that was all she was and ever would be, would be honoured. Kennedy would see to that. She owed them at least that much. But time was fleeting, so she had acted as quickly as she could.

 

Perhaps not the wisest idea. Hades was damn powerful, stronger by hundredfold. It hurt, but it was the right thing to do. This wasn't for her anymore; she was done being a selfish fool. It was time for her to being giving back all she had taken, regardless of the consequences awaiting her. "Willow, Tara," she commanded. "Finish it." She wouldn't be able to hold him off for long.

 

Hades glowered and pushed hard against her, but she held steady and unflinching. Her heart, mind, and soul were set…and there was nothing her Master would be able to do to change it.

 

" _Nostrum amor mos non intereo. Nostrum amor reluctor vos."_

 

Immediately, all was deathly quiet. Not a noise was heard, as if all sound had been sucked out. Then a whisper of wind blew, like a gently breeze. Hades began to breathe rapidly, eyes bulging as his eyes followed an unseen movement. The breeze picked up, transforming into a whistling howl that penetrated to the bone, chilling and terrifying. It built to a deafening pitch, feverish heat swirling until from within emerged a two roars – of Hades and of the storm.

 

Then as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and all was silent once more.

 

Hades was gone, disappeared with the squall.

 

"Wh-where'd he go?" Tara glanced around her, mind breaking connection with Willow's as she remembered the horrible events that occurred the last time Hades disappeared. Something was welling up inside of her, and she was afraid. "Willow." She was retreating into that dark world again, of guilt and wrong-doing. The feeling of confidence dwindled down from highest high to lowest low, rushing in torrents, devastating her already overloaded emotional matrix.

 

As if sensing her distress, Kennedy walked over to her, kneeling down beside her and taking her face into her hands, tenderly brushing away the forming tears. "Tara," she said quietly, "it's over." She smiled wanly. "You don't need to be afraid anymore."

 

"Th-thank you," Tara whispered. She had sunk down to the ground, exhausted, weak, and anguished, but relief was beginning to nip at the edges of self-erected walls of isolation, calming her fear and erratic heartbeat.

 

A warm breeze gradually permeated through the darkness, cleansing away the tension. A soft light winked into existence in the faded distance, rays trickling towards them until they were enveloped in voices and glow of radiance and eternity. All around, spirits appeared, singing, smiling, serene. It was a hum of reverence, of relief, or release – freedom from infinite hell. In a lazy spiral, they floated upwards, away into the rapidly clearing horizon.

 

"The souls of the witches," Willow whispered reverently. She smiled, inhaling the clean air, sacred with the presence of generations upon generations of undying love. It filled her with elation, relaxing and exciting her all at once. "Where are they going?"

 

"To rest," Kennedy answered, gazing up thoughtfully at the hovering specters. She smiled wearily, knowing she would soon be joining them. Time to say her goodbyes. She took Willow's hand in hers, her other hand reaching up to cup the redhead's cheek. She kissed Willow on one cheek, then the other before enveloping her in a lingering embrace.

 

It was in remembrance of all they had gone through together, and it showed how much Kennedy had treasured their time together. "Thank you for being so kind," she whispered into Willow's ear.

 

Willow's hands stroked gently over Kennedy's back, feeling the strong muscles, remembering the intimacy they'd shared. She had shared so much of herself with this woman. Kennedy had opened her back up after what had happened. She had been like a rusted door, condemned to closed eternity, locked shut with self-made bonds; but with unyielding patience, the Slayer had pushed and pulled with unwavering strength, knowing full well what lay inside was a love for another and not her. Yet she had persevered. And it had undoubtedly saved Willow's life.

 

Kennedy was fading away. She sensed the change and pulled away from Willow as she felt her corporeal form begin its final journey, become a memory. She looked down wonderingly at herself. Then she nodded, accepting her fate.

 

A woman on a mission, she made her way to Tara and knelt beside her again. "Thank you for making me see," she said. "Thank you for understanding." Respectfully and lovingly, she kissed the blonde on the forehead before pulling back to stare deeply into her eyes. "You are the best and purest soul I have ever seen. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." Images of Willow's cruel rape flashed in her mind, images of her standing nonchalantly to the side, observing in anguish, thinking it was for the better.

 

Tara blushed slightly, before turning away in embarrassment. "You chose what was right in the end," she answered quietly.

 

"It's what Julia would have wanted me to do." Kennedy smirked. They were calling her to her final slumber. She was tired. It was time for her to rest too. "Later, girlies." And so she gave in to the yawning summon that awaited her, letting her body rise up through the darkness and into the pure eternal light.

 

All thought left her mind. The chronic ache for Julia dulled to a mild throbbing, and even that was gone eventually. For the first time in millennia, she felt bliss. She felt peace. She felt…her soul. Then she felt nothing. Kennedy…was released.

 

Willow stared solemnly after the distancing figure. She raised a hand in companionable farewell. "Goodbye, Kennedy."

 

She could have sworn she heard a "see ya" echo down from the heavens.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Five hours in, and still they posted vigil – the three of them. Angel, Giles, Wesley, the three merry men…merry fools, more like. All the others were spread liberally around the room - all the others were in sweet slumber. But the three of them stayed awake, waiting, hoping, praying.

 

Willow and Tara lay in the centre of the room. They were shells, souls alight somewhere in the vast darkness. All things good depended on them now.

 

Angel toyed with the lapels on his duster. He hated being helpless. It was against his nature to just stand by passive. He needed to do something, anything; just not play look-out. He was getting restless with the waiting.

 

He gazed over at Buffy – an act he had caught himself doing more than too many times in the last hour. It wasn't that she was his current object of semi-infatuation that made these stolen glances so painful. It was that she represented everything he could never have – love, family, Buffy. It had been close to four years now, and still she was never completely absent from his mind, never completely purged. There was always just a touch of longing – almost completely undetectable, but sure enough, still there. It would slowly, in tiny tiny steps, eat away at him until he was no more than dust and ash.

 

He looked away. This…this was the reward of the cursed. He would continue on courageously until the prophecy was fulfilled, and even then, Buffy Summers would still be in his cold un-beating heart.

 

But this fate of his would only come to pass, if first, the more urgent prophecy was fulfilled. Willow and Tara fought an epic battle invisible to mortal and demonic eyes and the only assurance they had that the world was still only teetering on the edge and not lost were the small flickering flames perched humbly atop stiff mounds of wax – such little things the world's only link to the battles of the supernatural.

 

Then it happened, the horrible omen they all were hoping against hope wouldn't. The candles went out in a rush of wind, cold and bone-chilling. It picked up from nowhere, and dashed their hopes into the ground, leaving nothing but fear and a cold comprehension of their fate.

 

All were aware and alert. An organized chaos. Buffy and Dawn jumped up from where they were on the floor. Xander, Andrew, and Fred, from where they had lain slumped for the hours after their watch were now tripping over each other as they drowsily grabbed for their discarded weapons. Faith, as if completely attuned to the events, came sprinting down from the floor above where she had been keeping Robin company.

 

A state of absolute panic and despair overtook the conscious occupants of the room. It wasn't that they didn't know what was going to happen – they did, sorta. And it wasn't good. This meant it was the end. Hades had won, and it would very likely be sooner rather than later that they would go to their deaths. Willow and Tara had failed.

 

"What's going to happen now?"

 

"Are we going to fight?"

 

"I say fight and kick some demon ass while we can, if you want my opinion."

 

"Thinking with your sword again, Faith?"

 

"It's not always that first."

 

"Let's go out with a bang if we're going out."

 

"Don't be stupid."

 

"I don't wanna die…"

 

"Buffy…"

 

"I think we all need to calm down for a second here."

 

"Faith!"

 

"Shut up!" It was Dawn who finally jolted the others into a shocked state of silence. She was grinning slyly. "Aren't you guys missing something kinda important here?" She nudged her head downwards from where she stood just outside the circle.

 

Willow was sitting up, looking slightly pained, but blinking evenly at them; a taut, but bemused grin on her face. "Hey," she ventured. "Why the panic? We're alive. We won." She shifted her weight onto her knees and stood on shaky legs. "See?" She regarded the awkward silence expectantly, raising her eyebrows as she awaited their reaction.

 

The atmosphere in the room shifted rapidly from worrying to rejoicing, and Willow found herself the recipient of countless hugs, squeezes, and unintentional gropes. Normally, she would have reacted with more enthusiasm, perhaps slapped back straying hands, but she didn't. She had no will to do so. They had reason to, the world being saved and all, but Willow wasn't really concerned about that at the moment. She was preoccupied by something much more important.

 

Right now, she had her own world to save – Tara. It seemed that nobody but her had noticed that the blonde hadn't gotten up from the floor, but had merely curled herself tightly into a closed ball, shutting herself away from the world.

 

Willow's heart sank as she observed her girlfriend in such distress. Tara always took all the blame. She was inhumanly strong in that aspect. Tara could withstand punishment after punishment, and being so introverted, nobody would even sense the distress emanating out from the girl. But Willow could sense it. No matter how hard Tara tried to keep her out, she couldn't – Willow always found a way in.

 

Willow wanted to get them out of here. They were exhausted, in pain, broken both physically and emotionally. If the others had bothered to look closer, they would see the bruises and deeper wounds that adorned both their bodies. If the others could see past their own happiness – look at the means instead of the ends – maybe then, they would notice the state of their heroes.

 

All these thoughts came selfishly, Willow knew, but she couldn't help but think them. She saw some merit in them. She knew now how Buffy felt, to be the one responsible for ensuring that those who lived would still be around to see the new day – and never receiving a single gesture of thanks. Willow realized that she wanted to be praised, wanted to be noticed…but she also realized that to be a true hero, she would never be.

 

Even now, the others moved away, blinded by their happiness – and Willow couldn't blame them. She wanted to be happy too. She wanted to rejoice along with them, but she couldn't. Not when Tara was hurt; not when she had no idea where they stood in their relationship because of what had happened.

 

There was so much to work through, things to be sorted out and healed, understandings to be reached. Willow didn't know if they could fix it. She wanted to, but with Tara so full of guilt and at the epitome of stubborn, and with Willow so hurt and so…confused – she just didn't know.

 

 

* * *

 

Having made their way painstakingly slowly up, they were finally there. Tara had taken care not to ask for help, determined to keep to herself – namely, away from Willow. She knew none of this was Willow's doing, but Willow was not an option for comfort. Tara loved Willow all the more for her forgiveness, but she didn't want forgiveness as much as she needed time – time to heal, time to come to terms with what had happened, and what horrible things she had done. She knew she had Willow's forgiveness, but she didn't have her own.

 

She remained sullenly and guiltily silent as, too weak to do so herself, Willow fragilely undressed her and tucked her in under the covers. Tara felt much like a child but did not have the energy to protest.

 

Willow swiftly undressed herself and joined Tara in bed. The absence of clothes, as if they had somehow held the awareness of her broken form at bay, made her pain and exhaustion all the more apparent, all the more appalling – like something she wished to be rid of, but couldn't as it permeated throughout her body, making her feel absolutely filthy. She was too tired to shower.

 

She looked over at Tara, at her stiff figure lying in the bed unmoving, and berated herself for what had happened. She loved this woman so much that to see her, so collapsed in upon her own guilt…it hurt so much to see her like this. Willow wanted to, would do anything to make it all better for her baby. But what?

 

"Are you okay?" Stupid question, Willow knew, but she didn't know what else to say.

 

Tara, much as Willow had expected, shook her head.

 

"How…how can I make it better?" asked Willow. She tried to comfort her lover, wrapping her arms around Tara's stomach as she spooned her, attempting to relieve her of the guilt, trying to transfer her strength, the little that she had left, into the one who needed it more.

 

But Tara shuffled away, brushing Willow's hand from her bare stomach, curling into a ball as far from the redhead as she could. "I-I I can't t-touch you right n-now," she whispered.

 

She was a ghost of who she had built herself up to be. She was a mere remnant of the strong determined woman who was confident in what she did, who had worked so hard to get to that point. It was all gone now, shattered like broken glass. Willow couldn't help but think that she was the bullet that had ruined it all. Deep down, she knew it was Hades, still exacting his vengeance upon them, even after his defeat, holding some sort of power over their lives – making them regret, blame, pull away from the love that had held it all together, breaking them apart. Even after all their efforts, he was still winning.

 

"I'm sorry," Willow whispered back, tears beginning to form in her eyes, falling and staining the pillow beneath her with droplets of warm moisture. She wanted to make this better and right all the wrongs that had been done. She wanted to be the hero. She wanted to make everything okay.

 

But she couldn't. Things hadn't been okay for so long now, despite what she had persuaded herself to believe. She didn't even really know what 'alright' meant anymore. She had adapted; they had all adapted to this flawed lifestyle of theirs where everything emotional was accepted as a byproduct of what they had to do in order to save the world.

 

Well, the Willow-meister just wouldn't stand for that anymore. She observed her past passivity and examined the consequences that had resulted because of it. Because of Willow's non-action and decisions made in their showdown with Hades, Tara's perception of the world and herself were now so distorted by guilt that Willow feared she would never recover.

 

"I'm so sorry." Willow wanted to reach out, to hold her, to kiss away her pain, to make her forget – but she knew that it would do nothing but worsen the already bleak situation. She knew that Tara needed time and space, and she was willing to give her as much as she needed…but it pained Willow to remain so helpless.

 

"It's n-not you, W-Will," Tara murmured. "P-please don't blame y-yourself."

 

"But I-I wanna help," Willow protested. She touched Tara's shoulder hesitantly. "What happened back there…none of it was your fault, you know…Tara, you can't blame yourself for not being strong enough. I wasn't strong enough, either, but you helped me to accept that I couldn't have helped it. Please, let me help you. Don't push me away. Please," she begged.

 

The silence that ensued was the most painful silence they had ever had and very likely ever would have to endure. It all hung on Tara's response. Everything that mattered to Willow hung on her response.

 

Finally, the answer came, in the form of a deathly quiet whisper. "I…I need t-time, Willow." Tara's body uncurled slightly from its fetal position, turning round in an agonizing expenditure of energy so that she lay facing Willow on the bed. She stretched out a shaking hand to the redhead, fingering a stray lock of fiery hair between her knuckles, trying to comfort her love even when, Willow felt, she was the one who needed comfort.

 

"I'll wait," said Willow, her voice coming out much higher and more strained than she had wanted. She enfolded Tara's hand within her stronger one, squeezing it with infinite gentleness. "I'll wait as long as I have to."

 

Tara smiled the smallest of smiles, seeming as though she was yawning after awakening from a sleep-world where hope was clearly absent, almost as if a faint crackling could be heard as her mouth muscles moved into the gentle smile. Her eyes gave off no warmth, no light; but there was a glimmer of hope that lay within. And Willow was content with that – perhaps not happy, but knowing that progress would be made with time and in the right circumstances told Willow that there was a way back to the day from inside the trap they had fallen into.

 

They lay facing each other, fingers intertwined although barely touching. Hades had torn them apart. It would be a significant while before they could be comfortable with everything about each other once more.

 

Hades had ruined their future, or at the least, set it back to an indefinite date, Willow was sure. She didn't know if they would ever be able to go away now. Tara's recovery came first – she knew and accepted that. Still, her whole being yearned for a family of her own – a family of their own, safely tucked away in suburbia far away from the action, far away from danger. Above all, Willow wanted her family, which included Tara, safe.

 

But family would wait until Tara was ready…would she ever be comfortable leaving this life? Right now, Tara would want the support of her friends. Her friends were here, at the centre of it all. And until Tara said she was ready to leave, they wouldn't. But…would Tara want to be alone day after day with Willow, the one, in Tara's mind, she had raped? Willow didn't see it that way, but it wasn't her emotions that needed placating.

 

Their roles had been exchanged. Tara had been the stronger one. Now, here she lay, broken and defenseless – or perhaps with all her defenses up as the weight of her guilt and insecurities caved in upon her psyche. Willow commanded a vision of absolute clarity. She knew what needed to be done, what boundaries had to be respected…she didn't like it but she knew, nevertheless.

 

"Tara…when things get better, w-would you still be okay with us leaving?" she asked gently, apprehensively. "I-I mean, I know you wanted to before, but you, you know, wanna still? If you're not comfortable, I'm absolutely fine with it. But I need to know – will…will we ever be able to start a family together?"

 

She took care to keep her voice neutral. She didn't want Tara's answer to be influenced at all by her – Tara tended to do that. It was her weakness. She cared more for the ones she loved than she cared for herself. It was a good thing most of the time, but she was so selfless that she would disregard her own well-being in favour of her loved ones. It would devastate the blonde, as it did now, for her to hurt anybody accidentally, much less deliberately.

 

But she spoke. "C-can…can we l-leave s-soonish?" asked Tara. "I w-want to b-be with you, b-but I need t-time…to m-myself, so that I c-can heal – a-away from people t-that want to h-help b-but can't."

 

 _Is she referring to me?_  thought Willow. She understood that Tara needed time and space, but there was still a limit to which she would allow her solitude. Willow would not abandon Tara, no matter what. She wouldn't leave her to face this alone – she just wouldn't.

 

"I love you." She grazed Tara's cheek with her lips. "I will always be here for you, no matter what," she declared solemnly. "You know that, right?"

 

Tara's lower lip trembled. "I love you t-too," she murmured. "A-and…I know you w-want to, but we b-both know you c-can't." A hint of a smile graced her chapped lips.

 

They had both begun to cry by this point. Hot wet streaks of salty liquid traced paths down cold bruised cheeks. Their eyes were swollen red, the white conspicuously absent. The silence hurt; the emotional scars, the physical bruising, the forced intimacy they knew was essential to the healing process; it all ached to an almost unbearable degree.

 

They knew they had to overcome this, but they also knew they needed time – and they were willing to invest in that. They just didn't know how long it would take.

 

 

* * *

 

There was no sun. It was a gloomy morning, grey and overcast. Cold air drifted in through the open window, chilling bare skin.

 

Willow shuddered as the current made contact with her shoulders and back, uncovered by the thin duvet. She shivered and snuggled further into warm skin – Tara's skin.

 

Sometime in the night, while they were sleeping, barriers erected had been let down and as they were naturally inclined to do, they had reached out for each other. Willow was spooning Tara, her hands as they always were on the blonde, wrapped around her waist, resting on her stomach, protecting her from the baddies – always protecting her.

 

But when the wind woke Willow, everything came back – all the memories, all the things that kept them apart; it all came rushing back. Immediately, out of respect for Tara, she began to pull herself away. Her gut feeling told her that although she was truly enjoying this, neither of them were really ready for this sort of intimacy. It was all in their subconscious, and although Willow felt that this was home, she wasn't going to go with her instincts; they had gotten her into trouble before and she wasn't going to make a mistake here.

 

But Tara, arms placed over Willow's, wouldn't give up the contact. Instead she sighed and rolled over, her head resting in the crook of Willow's neck, her lips grazing her steady pulse.

 

Willow allowed herself to revel in her own wants and her own needs, if only for a moment. She knew that upon waking, Tara's illusion of contentment would disappear and she would be plunged back into cruel reality, just as Willow had been. This was what Willow could grow old with, what she would be happy with indefinitely, but the feeling, she knew, was not mutual. This sort of contact was what was hurting Tara so much, and Willow was willing to set aside her own wants and needs in light of Tara's predicament.

 

Having taken enough from her unwary love's warmth, Willow pulled away, taking care to allow Tara a few more moments of dreaming. Standing at the foot of the bed, she observed the blonde sadly. She lay curled, so peacefully, without a care in the world, a fragile porcelain doll. No evidence of what she had gone through was displayed in her expression. She was at peace with herself in her unconsciousness – so different from when she was awake.

 

Willow penned a short note and placed it on the bedside dresser before heading downstairs to get their breakfast, leaving Tara alone in the room.

 

Immediately noticing Willow's absence, Tara instinctively reached out, expecting to but not finding. Not yet fully awake although on the verge of being so, she was fully attuned to her most primal callings. All complications were abolished, didn't exist in her dream-realm. All was well where she lay in slumber.

 

Tara knew what awaited her in awakening. She knew of the demons plaguing her soul, the holdbacks and fears planted so cleverly in the darkest most hidden places of her heart. She knew how she could not dispel them as hard she tried. She knew that though all things would heal in time, they would not heal fast enough for Tara.

 

She longed for Willow's arms wrapped protecting and loving around her, Willow's warm body pressed up against hers, Willow's comforting presence that pushed everything else away from her mindset. She craved for this intimacy; she thirsted for it, didn't feel alive without it. But every time she felt Willow, she was reminded, cruelly reminded, of her actions, of her sins, of her ultimate violation. It repelled her, a sharp sting, a righteous reprimand, a slap, reminding her of how far away she was from happiness and how undeserving of grace she was.

 

In a way, Tara was grateful. What had happened had been her fault. She had preached the absoluteness of fate and prophecy as a means for Willow's, as well as her own, appeasement, leaving no other options than to do as they were told or meant to do. So many what ifs arose whenever she thought of it. What if she hadn't let Willow get so far with her magick? What if she hadn't been standing at that exact window at that exact moment? What if she had been stronger?

 

Things would have been so much different. But all that had happened had happened, according to prophecy, or whatever the hell it was, and now she would live with the consequences.

 

Tara was determined to experience retribution as she pulled herself tighter in, shutting all else but the guilt she drew about herself out, a cloak that kept external help from coming in to save the day. She was determined to find her own way back.

 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Willow sighed as she removed two mugs from the kitchen cupboard. As had been proven time and time again over the years, she was the only early riser of the Scoobies apart from Tara, who was at the moment, not in any shape for early rising. Come to think of it, neither was Willow, but it seemed that old habits died hard. They were the odd ones out within the group when it came to this. It was one of the few things that hadn't changed over the years they had been together. So much had changed.

 

The once unbreakable friendships established back in high school by the core group were no more. Friends had come and gone – Cordelia was in a coma, Oz was somewhere out there, searching for his center, maybe, or settled down, with a family. Anya was at peace.

 

Once integral, Willow felt, had felt that she was no longer needed many times. Now, with the original Slayer retired and others rising up to take her place all over the world, it felt like the rest of the group had just as much right to step down. They had been at it for seven years; they had done more than their fair share – all of them. It was the end of their time. They deserved at least that much, right?

 

Willow honestly didn't care anymore. She didn't care that she wasn't looking out for everybody else. She didn't care that her help would very likely be needed again. It was past that time now. She was no longer, chose to no longer be a dedicated fixture to this cause.

 

It didn't matter that she was being selfish. She knew she was. By doing this, she would be leaving behind her family, breaking her promise to stay by Buffy's side until the end. But Tara was the most important, the dearest and most treasured person to Willow. By herself, Willow could stand to not have her own dreams fulfilled so quickly, but if Tara wished it, Willow would do it. With Tara alive and well, they would inevitably leave. If not now, then when? In the middle of averting another apocalypse when the loss of their presence would be felt so much more?

 

Willow was conflicted, yet absolutely set on what she would eventually do. She was prepared to leave when Tara gave the word, whenever Tara was ready. She was fully devoted to her. Nothing would stand in the way. Her look shifted to that of resolve as she firmly set the two mugs in her hands down upon the counter, as if needing some physical gesture of affirmation to her decision.

 

She turned, sensing, unexplainably knowing who stood in the doorway behind.

 

"Top of the morning to ya." Buffy smiled as she made her way into the room.

 

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Willow.

 

"Long enough to see with the slamming of the mugs – and don't blame it on unknown strength or lack of strength because that's a pretty weak argument." She made an attempt to laugh, but her half-hearted joke brought no humour.

 

"Coffee?" Willow offered tiredly, ignoring Buffy's not-so-well-formulated jab at punning. She looked at her best friend and tried her best to smile.

 

"Sure, Will." Buffy uncrossed her arms and pushed herself lightly up and onto the counter. "Double mocha latte, if you would."

 

"Comin' right up," Willow chirped back reflexively.

 

She fumbled with the coffee machine for a moment before shaking hands forced her to admit defeat to her task. She sighed. She was weak, exhausted, and it frustrated her to no end. But she had to ignore her own primitive needs for the time for they would heal in time. Rest would come, as well. Tara needed her attention.

 

Still, despite her iron will, Willow's strength was waning. She was only human, even with all her gifts. And she was done drawing strength from her magicks; she knew what path lay in that direction and wasn't about to sign up for a second trip to hell.

 

"Will," Buffy gently placed her hands atop the redhead's, splayed hard against the ceramic surface, "let me help you." She led the witch to the nearest stool.

 

Willow placed her head between her hands and closed her eyes, succumbing for just a moment to her exhaustion. She was so very tired.

 

"How are the two of you doing?" asked Buffy, deftly starting the machine up. "You didn't seem too happy-because-we-saved-the-world-Willow last night." Coffee set to broil and bubble, Buffy returned to her seat on the counter, attention raptly set upon Willow. "What happened? Something happened. Forgive me for prying, but as best friend, I'm not supposed to allow things like this to remain unsaid."

 

Willow could see the unspoken questions on the tip of Buffy's tongue, only held back by commendable sensitivity. Buffy wanted to know. Everybody wanted to know what had gone down in the unknown. Being so involved and having invested so much into this fight, they deserved to know.

 

But something kept Willow from telling. Something held her words inside; words that could change Tara's label from murderer to victim in an instant; words that  _would_  have to be said eventually.

 

Things, when laid out in front of her, usually seemed so simple – simple in their natural complexity. She took great delight in letting her mind send a situation flying off in as many directions as possible as rapidly as she could. It was when she was truly herself, her mind spreading its proverbial wings and taking glorious flight into the heavens of pure Willow. It gave her escape from solutions she didn't like. Her imagination was her shelter.

 

But now, her options were limited to two – tell Buffy, don't tell Buffy. There were no routes that would lead her away from this, no routes of escape that her mind could conjure up. Both paths led nowhere but where she dreaded.

 

There were things that could never be told, emotions that would never be revealed to anyone; some, not even Tara. They were burdens weighing down upon Willow that she alone would shoulder and that she alone would deal with in her own time. Selfishly and unselfishly, she kept them to herself. They would haunt her, but she would come out victorious as she had time and time again. All she needed was Tara by her side to help her face her demons. Only her blonde angel gave her strength to stand strong.

 

"Things…happened," she settled upon. "Bad things, a-and Tara and I are having some trouble because of it." She wringed her hands silently and looked up teary-eyed at Buffy. "I-I know where I stand in our relationship. But…I…don't know where she stands anymore. One second she's touching me and everything's all good with smoochies and touchies, and then, she remembers, and it's all gloomy again. She blames herself for what happened and it's not her fault; it's not her fault!" she half-cried, half-wailed.

 

Willow's eyes were puffing up, and she could feel hot angry tears brimming.

 

"Will, what happened?" The Slayer was concerned, rapt.

 

Willow shook her head. "No. I can't."

 

"Let us help, Will," Buffy requested, almost begged. "Dawn, Xander, the others. Let  _me_  help."

 

Willow shook her head resolutely. "This is something we have to work out on our own, Buff." She went to the pantry and pulled out a sesame seed bagel – Tara's favourite. "I'm sorry…" She halved it and went to the fridge, pulling out a slice of cheddar. She placed the cheese in between the halves and placed it in the toaster oven. Grilled cheese bagel – Tara's favourite.

 

Her reply to Buffy's plea must have sounded like she was brushing her off because the Slayer slammed her hands onto the counter, propelling herself off the counter and over to Willow. Being a Slayer, the force of the impact of her palms against the ceramic top thundered in the quiet din of the former hotel kitchen like the crack of a whip, her strength leaving two imprints in her wake. Willow jumped and turned in alarm, only to find Buffy standing not three feet away, pleading now.

 

"Will, I know I haven't been good to you," Buffy sighed. "I know I haven't been there for you as a best friend should. I know I haven't been there for you during your rough patches – any of them. Being a Slayer isolated me from my friends and family – it was in the way before, but it was my duty. But now it's not. I can help now. Please, let me."

 

Buffy's heartfelt plea was not lost on Willow. She  _wanted_  to tell all, but she wasn't ready to do so. So many things had happened so quickly and in such great magnitude that to even ponder the beginning of the consequences of these life-changing events gave Willow a throbbing headache. She wanted to sob, to scream, to unleash all her pent up pain and exhaustion in a never-ending wail – but she couldn't. She needed to be the strength of two broken people. A fragmented breaking strength it was, but it would have to do.

 

Willow looked away.

 

"Will, please." Buffy reached out and placed a hand on the redhead's forearm. "You're not alone in this. Don't take the whole burden on yourself. It'll kill you – it damn near killed me. I know what it's like to feel like you're alone and that you can't share what you're going through. It just affirms how horrible a friend I've been to you because you can't go to me, your best friend."

 

Willow stared sharply up at that. It hurt, but she felt deserving of it. "I didn't wa – "

 

"I deserve this now. Don't blame yourself for trying to help me. I was back and there was nothing I could do about it. I was upset and angry and resentful that you had pulled me from bliss," Willow winced, "but I always knew you did it out of love for me. I just couldn't accept it, you know?"

 

"Buffy…" Willow held her friend's gaze. "Stop blaming yourself. Please. It's past now. I made a mistake and we all suffered from it. No, we're not as close as we used to be, but that started much earlier than when you think it did." The drift had begun in their first year of university, had been confirmed when Willow had met Tara. But she said the next statement with absolute conviction. "You, me, Xander – no matter where we are in this world, how old we are, or how for apart we are – I will always consider you two my best friends because that's what you two are. Nothing will change that if I can help it."

 

"Oh." Buffy pursed her lips as if something hadn't quite clicked in what Willow had said. And then, she understood in a moment of heartbreaking lucidity. She recalled her relief at Willow originally deciding to stay with her; and she imagined now what it would be like to face Los Angeles without her. "When…when are you leaving?" she whispered.

 

"Whenever Tara's ready," Willow answered quietly.

 

"But…"

 

"Buffy, this isn't because of you or anybody," she explained. "It's just that…it's not safe where we are now."

 

"Nowhere is safe, then," Buffy argued vehemently. "Evil is everywhere and so is the First. It's gonna be out for your blood especially." Her cheeks sparkled with droplets of grief and anger. "You were never afraid of danger before," she accused sadly.

 

"But I'm tired, Buff," Willow sighed. "I'm so tired… We've fought for seven years now a-and I'm only human; I just wanna be a normal twenty-one year old who can finish school a-and start a family. I can't have that here. I would feel inclined to help and to get involved. That's why we're going away. It's because I'm being selfish. It's because I'm being a coward. It's because I'm not strong enough."

 

Even as she tried to skirt the issue the truth came out. She had told herself after last night, had convinced herself that their going away was for Tara's recovery. The reality was that it was for Willow's.

 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Buffy's final plea.

 

Willow wanted to be persuaded, wanted to be rebutted so that she had no choice  _but_  to stay, but nevertheless her mind was set. Whenever Tara was ready, they would be gone. She shook her head. "You can't."

 

And then Willow was engulfed in hot tears and strong arms that held her close and tight with a strength that could only be that of a Slayer. She could feel that inner strength and wisdom, along with the knots of writhing pain that defined Buffy radiating from within, a brutal testament to all she had gone through.

 

This was what made it so hard – her love for Buffy. If she could have it her way, she would make it so that she would never be apart from her best friend. But her love for Tara was more.

 

She clasped the blonde to herself and they wept together. Distance would inevitably break down the friendship, no matter what they said, how they tried. They both understood: Willow was choosing Tara over Buffy. It was the right choice to make.

 

"You're my best friend, Will," Buffy murmured. "I love you. You know that, right?"

 

Willow nodded. "I know."

 

Buffy gazed at her for a moment before once again bursting into tears. "I'm gonna miss you so much," she sobbed.

 

"I'm not leaving yet, doofus," Willow consoled. She wished there was another way, but she knew there wasn't. She had to find another purpose in life, make something of herself outside of what she had been forced by association to do for so long. "You still have me for a little longer."

 

"I love you," Buffy whispered.

 

"I know, Sweetie."

 

Then it was ended and they withdrew. Willow tended to the toasted bagel while Buffy poured the coffee.

 

Their moment of intimacy had been fleeting, a mere moment that came and went, and though not forgotten, was a moment far and few between. The familiar gap between them had settled back in place, separating them, if only a little, from the friendship they had once had.

 

"Tara likes her coffee black, right?" Buffy rummaged in the refrigerator for cream.

 

"Mhmm," affirmed Willow. "Black for me too, please."

 

"Don't you normally load up on the sugar?" asked Buffy mildly.

 

"I don't feel much like the sugary sweetness today." Willow sliced the bagel in half, then wrapped it in a napkin. "They don't seem to be too plentiful in the plate department here." She frowned, all the while trying to avoid why she didn't feel like sugar.

 

"Will." Buffy handed two steaming mugs of coffee to the redhead. "If you ever need anything ever, I'm here for you. Please remem –"

 

"I know," Willow murmured. She nodded in thanks, accepting the two mugs and pressing the wrapped bagel to her body. She walked to the entranceway and closed her eyes, nodded once more in thanks – for everything. Then, both were alone, Buffy in the kitchen, Willow on the stairs. Alone in their thoughts, afflicted by grief, exhaustion, fragmented strength. Neither would ever truly escape.

 

 

* * *

 

"H-hey." Tara was dressed, sitting on the bed, trembling. Hair barely brushed, lips chapped, borrowed clothes hanging loose off her normally accommodating frame.

 

The impact of Tara upon Willow's senses was like a freight train crashing head-on. It was devastating, like seeing the ghost of a loved one. Essentially, she was. But she did her best to smile, held in her despair, looked strong for both their sakes.

 

"Hey. Morning." She set a mug on the dresser for Tara and sipped from the other. She offered the bagel to Tara. "I bring breakfast and coffee."

 

"Thank you…" A hoarse whisper, a half-smile. Tara slurped, then let the liquid fall back into the mug from her mouth. Too hot. She blew over the surface before trying again.

 

"Are you planning on going down at all today?"

 

Tara shook her head.

 

"Sooner or later, they're gonna come looking for you," Willow gently pointed out. She knew Tara was afraid. It was right for her to be. What else could she be right now? Willow was afraid too – as much, if not more so. Uncertainty, that was what it was. Uncertainty, hand-in-hand with an unhealthily large dose of regret and fear.

 

"I'm afraid, Will," whispered Tara. She held the mug tightly within her hands. "I'm afraid of how they'll react when they know."

 

"They love you," answered Willow. "They'll understand." She sat down beside Tara, feet set firmly on the floor.

 

"But I'm afraid of how they'll look at me. They'll pity me, and they'll try to hide their disgust around me, but I'll see it." She bit her lip. "They'll see me and…and, they'll know. They'll h-hug me as if I were a f-fragile little doll that could b-break at any moment. A victim." Tara raised her hands to her face, touched them to her cheeks, withdrew them. "But I l-look at m-myself, a-and I d-don't see that. These hands…t-they hurt y-you. They v-violated you. How could a-anybody pity me? They will, because they don't really know. I just…I…"

 

Her voice a bare murmur, cracked with guilt barely constrained. Willow understood. Tara wanted Willow to hate her. She wanted to be pushed away, to receive the hurt she had inflicted back tenfold. She didn't care that the others wanted to help. She didn't want their help. She wanted Willow's anger and retribution because Willow was the one hurt by her. Willow was the one she loved. To be truly punished and to begin to heal, she needed redemption. She needed to feel hurt that she could only feel from Willow, her judge, her captor, her punisher.

 

Willow set her coffee on the dresser and stared sadly at Tara. She took Tara's face in her hands and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Placing her forehead against Tara's, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath…"Tara, that doesn't matter at all."

 

 

* * *

 

A light rapping on the door echoed throughout the room. The lamp was lit, its light casting a soft glow about its surroundings, countering the drizzling grey of the outside world. The sounds bounced from surface to surface before fading away into silence. The cycle repeated as the knocking continued. Then, a voice.

 

"Willow? Tara? Come down, I made celebratory cookies!" Dawn continued to knock for a moment more. Things were hard right now. Going into the Willow-Tara-Hades showdown, emotions had been iffy and strained. Kennedy's body lay in a shallow grave beneath the gravel of downtown Los Angeles, carried and buried there by Faith.

 

Faith had liked Kennedy from the moment she had set eyes on her. She had had the same flare and unpredictability that characterized the Slayer. Even now, she hadn't forgiven Tara. She held her anger in with practiced control, knowing that acting on her emotions would do nothing good.

 

Dawn understood. But she loved Tara like a daughter loved a mother. She had convinced herself that it had been an accident. It would get in the way for a while, but things would eventually clear up. Dawn was determined to make things clear up faster.

 

"Willow? Tara?" She waited a little longer before turning the knob and entering.

 

The room was empty. It looked much like it had before. They had come with nothing, had left with nothing. There was no evidence that they had ever been there if not for the soiled sheets folded neatly at the top right corner of the bed and the halved stationary that lay atop the dresser.

 

Except for the pitter-patter of the warm summer rain, all was silent. And it was a deafening silence as Dawn's whole being cried out in a terrifying internal wail. She knew already. She knew what the letter contained; what words had been placed so carefully, so meticulously within. And it broke her. Dawn wanted to cry – and so she did.

 

Gingerly, she touched the paper, afraid to read, determined to read. She grasped it within her hand, fingers shaking. They closed around it, her fist causing a crumpling and crackling. She sighed and finally, opened the letter, knowing what awaited her.


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey Guys,_

 

_Let me start off by saying that this wasn't how we wanted it to be. By now, you'll know that we're gone. I'm so sorry. I wish we could have stayed. This was such a hard decision to make, but it had to be made and it had to be done. Things happened and we need to sort them out on our own. Away._

 

_There are other reasons too. I'll be honest by telling you we've talked long and hard about leaving for a long time now. Even before…you know what. Tara and I, we want to start a family, away from all the action and the danger. Be normal, you know? If we stayed, our children would be in constant danger and we would always be worrying about them. We'd become a hindrance and we couldn't live like that._

 

_We're sorry that we had to leave so quickly and quietly. We wanted to say goodbye, but it would have been too hard. Things need to be dealt with alone in our own time, and we don't know how long it will take. We don't know if we'll ever, but we have to try. We will. I guess what we're trying to say is don't expect us back. We'll definitely visit and all, but…this is goodbye. We will definitely call._

 

_With all our love,_

_WT_

_P.S. Tara didn't kill Kennedy. I felt that needed to be cleared up as it'll definitely come up when things have settled down and you remember there's a body. I'll explain when I call._

 

Tara had cried as they walked past the rooms – rooms containing the peaceful slumbers of their family. A hand over her mouth had kept the dry hacking sobs from spilling out into the sound-scape, but she had paused at Dawn's door. Had it not been for Willow's determination, she would have entered to kiss the girl goodbye.

 

Willow had cried as well. But she had held back, hadn't allowed herself to express the emptiness and sorrow she felt. She had to be strong, and so she had. She had taken a deep breath and guided Tara gently, firmly down the stairs, out the door.

 

Her hands gripped the wheel of the rented Chevrolet tightly, the studs of the leather covering biting into her skin. It was sharp. It kept her awake. Only a bit longer and she would be allowed a few hours of rest.

 

Willow's eyes were red, tired. Her mouth set into a thin line, it reflected the rest of her stance. Completely contrived, obviously contrived; she plodded on as a warrior through the never-ending swarms of adversaries, blade steaming with dripping blood, exhausted. They would win soon. She knew that. But she had a secret weapon – magick. For she was a sorcerer as well as a warrior, and when all seemed lost, she would rise up with her last reserves and obliterate.

 

She loved Tara, and that was enough. For now, Tara's needs and Tara's wants, that was all that mattered. She would hold out on everything for her until Tara was alright, because she knew that in return, Tara would be there for her. She would take care of her when she finally collapsed from exhaustion.

 

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon, giving way to the cool darkness of the desert night. They would have to stop soon. And then, she would call. Willow knew what awaited her – anger, tears, yelling, crying, and pain. She dreaded that phone call, but she knew it had to be done.

 

Willow felt much like a pawn.

 

She knew what was necessary. She was the do-er, and she would be the one on who the blame would fall. She would be called irrational, immature, no doubt, but she knew she wasn't. She was too experienced, too hardened to the need over the want. She knew how necessary their isolation was.

 

Tara needed to heal.

 

Willow cast a sidelong glance at Tara, who was dozing lightly in the passenger's seat. She was positioned awkwardly, uncomfortably, head nodding into a folded elbow that lay on a rolled-up window. Their bodies would be aching when they arrived. Tara's limbs would need rubbing – if Tara allowed.

 

She stirred, her eyebrows scrunching together as she awakened into her nightmare. Willow's face fell in synch with Tara's – reality was back in place for the blonde, along with her anguish.

 

Not a word was spoken. The steady thrumming of the engine contentedly filled in the silence.

 

Willow ventured a smile. Doubts remained, but reassurance rested within the haunted tired eyes of her love. It gave her the strength she so desperately needed – enough to continue on a little longer.

 

Just a little longer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written in years, but when I did I put a lot of my time and energy into it. This was one of the pieces I was most proud of. Reading briefly through it now, I know I would approach characterization and narrative differently, but it's certainly nostalgic! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. :)


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